WGGS  UBRABY, 

WASHINGTON,  0.  C, 


Jobn  Bull 


MAX   O'RELL 


5obn  Bull  Junior 


FRENCH  AS  SHE  IS  TRADUCED 


BY  THE  AUTHOR  OF 
"JOHN  BULL  AND   HIS  ISLAND,"    ETC. 

WITH   A   PREFACE   BY 

GEORGE  C.  EGGLESTON 


104  &  106  FOURTH  AVENUE,  NEW  YORK 


COPYRIGHT, 

1888, 
By  O.  M.   DUNHAM. 


All  rights  reserved. 


Prest  W.   L.   Merrtion  Si  Co.. 
Rahway,  N.  J. 


PREFACE. 


IT  must  be  that  a  too  free  association  with  American  men 
of  letters  has  moved  the  author  of  this  book  to  add  to  his 
fine  Gallic  wit  a  touch  of  that  preposterousness  which  is 
supposed  to  be  characteristic  of  American  humor. 

For  proof  of  this,  I  cite  the  fact  that  he  has  asked  me  to 
introduce  him  upon  this  occasion.  Surely  there  could  be  no 
more  grotesque  idea  than  that  any  word  of  mine  can  serve 
to  make  Max  O'Rell  better  known  than  he  is  to  the  great 
company  of  American  readers. 

Have  not  the  pirate  publishers  already  introduced  him 
to  all  Americans  who  care  for  literature  ?  Have  not  their 
translators  done  their  best,  not  only  to  bring  his  writings 
to  the  attention  of  readers,  but  also  to  add  to  the  sparkle 
and  vivacity  of  his  books  by  translating  into  them  many 
things  not  to  be  found  in  the  French  originals  ?  These 
generous  folk,  who  have  thus  liberally  supplemented  his  wit 
with  flashes  of  their  own  stupidity,  have  treated  his  text 
after  the  manner  of  a  celebrated  Kentuckian  of  whom  it 
was  written  that  his  love  of  truth  was  so  great  that  he  gave 
his  entire  time  and  attention  to  the  task  of  ornamenting 
and  adding  to  it. 

But  with  all  their  eagerness  to  render  interested  service 
to  a  distinguished  man  of  letters  who  was  not  then  here  to 
look  after  his  own  affairs,  the  pirates  missed  this,  the  best 


PREFACE. 

of  his  books  ;  and  finding  that  no  surreptitious  edition  of  it 
has  appeared  in  this  country,  the  author  has  felt  himself 
privileged  to  re-write  it  and  make  such  changes  in  it  and 
additions  to  it  as  his  own  judgment  has  suggested  without 
the  prompting  of  voluntary  assistants,  and  even  to  negotiate 
with  a  publisher  for  the  issue  of  an  edition  on  his  own 
account. 

I  have  called  this  work  the  best  of  Max  O'Rell's  books, 
and  I  think  the  reader  will  approve  the  judgment.  Here, 
as  in  all  that  this  author  has  written,  there  is  a  biting  wit, 
which  saturates  the  serious  substance  as  good,  sharp  vine- 
gar pervades  a  pickle  ;  but  here,  as  elsewhere,  the  main 
purpose  is  earnest,  and  the  wit  is  but  an  aid  to  its  accom- 
plishment. A  very  wise  and  distinguished  educator  has 
declared  that  "the  whole  theory  of  education  is  to  be 
extracted  from  these  humorous  sketches,"  and  the  story 
goes — whether  Max  O'Rell  will  vouch  for  its  accuracy  or 
not,  I  do  not  venture  to  say — that  the  head  boy  of  St. 
Paul's  School  in  London,  after  hearing  the  sketches  read 
in  public,  said :  "  We  boys  enjoyed  the  lecture  im- 
mensely, but  that  ff  How  knows  too  much  about  us." 

With  a  tremor  of  apprehension,  we  reflect  that  Max 
O'Rell's  period  of  observation  among  ourselves  will  pres- 
ently end,  a.id  that  when  he  comes  to  record  the  result  in 
his  peculiar  fashion,  we  are  likely  to  echo  that  school-boy's 
plaint.  But  at  any  rate  we  shall  know  our  own  features 
better  after  we  have  contemplated  them  in  his  mirror  ;  and, 
meantime,  those  of  us  who  have  enjoyed  his  acquaintance 
are  disposed  earnestly  to  hope  that  a  guest  whom  we  have 
learned  to  esteem  so  warmly  may  not  think  quite  so  ill  of 
the  American  character  as  the  barbaric  condition  of  our 
laws  respecting  literary  property  would  warrant. 

GEORGE  GARY  EGGLESTON. 

NEW  YORK,  February,  1888. 


INTRODUCTION. 


A  Word  to  the  Reader  and  another  to  the  Critic. 

To  write  a  book  in  a  foreign  tongue  is  risky,  and  I  had 
better  at  once  ask  for  indulgence. 

The  many  scenes  and  reminiscences  belong  to  England, 
and,  if  translated  into  French,  the  anecdotes  and  conversa- 
tions would  lose  much  of  whatever  flavour  and  interest 
there  may  be  in  them. 

This  is  my  reason  for  not  having  written  this  book 
in  French.  Let  my  reason  be  also  my  apology. 


If  any  of  my  readers  should  feel  inclined  to  think  my 
review  of  British  school-boys  somewhat  critical,  let  them 
take  it  for  granted  that  when  I  was  a  boy  I  was  everything 
that  was  good. 


Now,  gentle  American  Critic,  whose  magnanimity  is 
proverbial,  before  thou  abusest  this  little  book,  reflect  how 
thou  wouldst  feel  if  thy  Editor  were  to  bid  thee  write  thy 
criticism  in  French. 

MAX  O'RELL. 


Contents . 


Preface,          ....... 

Introduction,         ...... 

I  am  Born. — I  am  Deeply  in  Love. — I  wish  to  be  an  Artist, 
but  my  Father  uses  strong  Argument  against  it. — I  pro- 
duce a  dramatic  Chef-d'oeuvre. — Parisian  Managers  fail 
to  appreciate  it. — I  put  on  a  beautiful  Uniform. — The 
Consequence  of  it. — Two  Episodes  of  the  Franco- 
Prussian  War. — The  Commune  explained  by  a  Com- 
munist.— A  "  glorious  "  Career  cut  short. — I  take  a  Reso- 
lution and  a  Ticket  for  London,  .... 


EXTRACTS     FROM     THE     DIARY     OF     A      FRENCHMAN      IN 
SEARCH    OF   A   SOCIAL   POSITION   IN   ENGLAND. 

Arrival  at  Charing  Cross.— I  have  Nothing  to  declare  to  the 
Excise/nan  but  Low  Spirits. — Difficulty  in  finding  a 
comfortable  Residence. — Board  and  Lodging. — A  House 
with  Creepers.— Things  look  Bad.— Things  look  Worse. 
— Things  look  cheerful,  .  .  .  .  .15 

III. 

I  make  the  acquaintance  of  Public  School  Boys. — "  When  I 
was  a  little  Boy."— An  Awful  Moment.— A  Simple 
Theory.— I  score  a  Success,  .  .  .  -34 


Contents, 


IV. 

The  genus  Boy. — The  only  one  I  object  to. — What  Boys 
work  for,  .  .  .  .  .  .  .38 

V. 

Schoolboys  I  have  met.— Promising;  Britons. — Sly  Boots. — 
Too  Good  for  this  World. — "  No,  thanks,  we  makes  it." 
— French  Dictionaries.— A  Naughty  Boy.— Mothers' 
Pets.— Dirty,  but  Beautiful. — John  Bully.— High  Collars 
and  Brains. — Dictation  and  its  Trials. — Not  to- be  taken 
in.— Unlucky  Boys.— The  Use  of  Two  Ears.— A  Boy 
with  One  Idea. — Master  Whirligig. — The  Influence  of 
Athletics.— A  Good  Situation.— A  Shrewd  Boy  of  Busi- 
ness.— Master  Algernon  Cadwaladr  Smyth  and  other 
Typical  Schoolboys,  .  .  .  .  .40 

VI. 

French  as  she  is  Traduced. — More  Grumblings. — "La 
Critique  "  is  not  the  Critic's  Wife.— Bossuet's  Prose,  and 
how  it  reads  in  English. — Nothing  improves  by  Transla- 
tion except  a  Bishop.— A  Few  French  "  Howlers." — 
Valuable  Hints  on  translating  Unseen  Passages,  .  72 


Erglish  Boys  on  French  Etymologies. — Why   "Silence"  i 
the  only  French  Noun  ending  in  "ence"  that  is  of  the 


s 

tne  only  trench  I\oun  ending  in  "ence"  that  is  of  the 
Masculine  Gender.— A  Valuable  Service  rendered  by  the 
Author  to  his  Land  of  Adoption. — Learned  Etymolo- 
gies.— Return  to  old  Philological  Methods.— Remarkable 
Questions. — Written  and  Oral  Examinations. — A  Kind 
Examiner.— How  long  would  it  take  the  Moon  to  Fall 
to  the  Earth  ?— How  many  Yards  of  Cloth  it  takes  to 
cover  an  Ass,  .  .  .  .  .  .80 

VIII. 

English  Boys  on  French  Composition. — "Go  ahead"  is  not 
in  French  "  Allez  une  Tete. "— How  Boys  set  about  French 
Composition. — A  Written  Proof  of  their  Guilt. — How- 
Large  Advertisements  can  help  them. — A  Stumbling- 
Block  cleared  away,  .  .  .  .  .90 


Contents. 


IX. 

Suggestions  and  Hints  for  the  Class  Room. — Boys  on 
History  and  Geography.  —  "  Maxims  "  and  "  Wise 
Thoughts." — Advice  to  those  about  to  Teach. — "Sir," 
and  not  "  Mossoo." — "  Frauleins  "and  "  Mademoiselles." 
—Check  your  Love  for  Boys.— No  Credit.— We  are  all 
liable  ot  make  Mistakes. — I  get  an  insight  into  "  Stocks,"  95 

X. 

English  Boys'  Patriotism  put  to  a  Severe  Test. — Their 
Opinion  of  French  Victories. — King  Louis  VI.  of  France 
and  the  English  Soldier  at  the  Battle  of  Brenneville.— 
An  English  Boy  on  French  Wrestling. — Young  Tory 
Democrats. — "  Imperium  et  Libertas." — A  Patriotic  An- 
swer.— Duck  and  Drake,  .  .  .  .  .no 

XI. 

Cricket. — I  have  an  Unsuccessful  Try  at  it. — Boys'  Opinion 
of  my  Athletic  Qualities. — French  and  English  Athletes. 
— Feats  of  Skill  and  Strength  versus  Feats  of  Endurance 
and  Brute  Force. — A  Case  of  Eviction  by  Force  of  Arms,  116 

XII. 

Old  Pupils. — Acquaintances  renewed. — Lively  Recollec- 
tions revived. — It  is  easier  to  Teach  French  than  to 
Learn  it. — A  Testimonial  refused  to  a  French  Master. — 
"  How  de  do  ?  "  —  "  That's  What-d'ye-call-him,  the 
French  Master,"  .  .  .  .121 


Debating  Societies. — A  Discussion  on  the  Pernicious  Use 
of  Tobacco. — School  Magazines  in  France  and  England. 
— A  Business-like  Little  Briton. — An  Important  Resolu- 
tion passed  unanimously. — I  perform  an  Englishman's 
Duty,  .  .  .  .  .  .  .125 


Contents. 


XIV. 

Home,  sweet  Home ! — Boys'  Opinion  of  the  Seaside. — 
French  and  English  Beaches.— Who  is  he  at  Home  ? 
What  was  his  Grandfather  ? — Remarks  on  Swaggering. 
— "  I  thought  he  was  a  Gentleman,"  .  .  .  128 

XV. 

He  can  not  speak  French,  but  he  can  read  it,  you  know. — 
He  has  a  try  at  it  in  Paris. — Nasal  Sounds  and  accented 
Syllables. — How  I  reduced  English  Words  to  single 
Syllables,  and  was  successful  in  the  Object  I  had  in  View. 
— A  Remark  on  the  Connection  of  Words,  .  .  133 


Public  School  Scholarships  and  Exhibitions. — Grateful 
Parents. — Inquiring  Mothers. — A  Dear  Little  Candidate. 
— Ladies'  Testimonials.— A  Science  Master  well  recom- 
mended, .  .  .  .  .  .  .138 

XVII. 

The  Origin  of  Anglomania  and  Anglophobia  in  England. — 
A  Typical  Frenchman.— Too  much  of  an  Englishman. — 
A  remarkable  French  Master. — John  Bull  made  to  go  to 
Church  by  a  Frenchman. — A  Noble  and  Thankless 
Career. — A  Place  of  Learning. — Mons.  and  Esquire. — 
All  Ladies  and  Gentlemen. — One  Exception. — Wonder- 
ful Addresses,  ......  148 

XVIII. 

The  Way  to  Learn  Modern  Languages,       .  .  .158 

XIX. 

English  and  French  Schoolboys.— Their  Characteristics. — 
The  Qualities  of  the  English  Schoolboy.— What  is 
required  of  a  Master  to  Win,  .  .  .  .165 

Appendix,        .......   169 


John  Bull,  Jr. 

*P\ 
I. 


AM  BORN. — I  AM  DEEPLY  IN  LOVE. — i  WISH  TO  BE  AN 
ARTISTE,  BUT  MY  FATHER  USES  STRONG  ARGUMENT 
AGAINST  IT. — I  PRODUCE  A  DRAMATIC  CHEF-D'CEUVRE. 
— PARISIAN  MANAGERS  FAIL  TO  APPRECIATE  IT. — I  PUT 
ON  A  BEAUTIFUL  UNIFORM. — THE  CONSEQUENCE  OF  IT. 
— Two  EPISODES  OF  THE  FRANCO-PRUSSIAN  WAR. — 
THE  COMMUNE  EXPLAINED  BY  A  COMMUNIST. — A 
"  GLORIOUS"  CAREER  CUT  SHORT. — I  TAKE  A  RESOLU- 
TION, AND  A  TICKET  TO  LONDON. 

I  WAS  born  on  the 

But  this  is  scarcely  a  "  recollection  "  of  mine. 


At  twelve  I  was  deeply  in  love  with  a  little  girl 
of  my  own  age.  Our  servants  were  friends,  and 
it  was  in  occasional  meetings  of  these  girls  in  the 
public  gardens  of  my  little  native  town  that  my 
chief  chance  of  making  love  to  Marie  lay. 
Looking  back  on  this  little  episode  in  my  life,  I 
am  inclined  to  think  that  it  afforded  much 
amusement  to  our  attendants.  My  love  was  too 


2  John  Bull,  Jr. 

deep  for  words  ;  I  never  declared  my  flame 
aloud.  But,  oh,  what  a  fluttering  went  on  under 
my  small  waistcoat  every  time  I  had  the  ineffable 
pleasure  of  a  nod  from  her,  and  what  volumes 
of  love  I  put  into  my  bow  as  I  lifted  my  cap  and 
returned  her  salute  !  We  made  our  first  com- 
munion on  the  same  day.  I  was  a  pupil  of  the 
organist,  and  it  was  arranged  that  I  should  play 
a  short  piece  during  the  Offertory  on  that  occa- 
sion. I  had  readily  acquiesced  in  the  proposal. 
Here  was  my  chance  of  declaring  myself ; 
through  the  medium  of  the  music  I  could  tell 
her  all  my  lips  refused  to  utter.  She  must  be 
moved,  she  surely  would  understand. 

Whether  she  did  or  not,  I  never  had  the  bliss 
of  knowing.  Shortly  after  that  memorable  day, 
my  parents  removed  from  the  country  to  Paris. 
The  thought  of  seeing  her  no  more  nearly  broke 
my  heart,  and  when  the  stage-coach  reached  the 
top  of  the  last  hill  from  which  the  town  could  be 
seen,  my  pent-up  feelings  gave  way  and  a  flood 
of  tears  came  to  my  relief. 

The  last  time  I  visited  those  haunts  of  my 
childhood,  I  heard  that  "  little  Marie  "  was  the 
mamma  of  eight  children.  God  bless  that 
mamma  and  her  dear  little  brood  ! 


At  fifteen  I  was  passionately  fond  of  music, 


John  Bull,  Jr.  3 

and  declared  to  my  father  that  I  had  made  up 
my  mind  to  be  an  artiste. 

My  father  was  a  man  of  great  common  sense 
and  few  words  :  he  administered  to  me  a  sound 
thrashing,  which  had  the  desired  effect  of  restor- 
ing my  attentions  to  Cicero  and  Thucydides. 

It  did  not,  however,  altogether  cure  me  of  a 
certain  yearning  after  literary  glory. 

For  many  months  I  devoted  the  leisure,  left 
me  by  Greek  version  and  Latin  verse,  to  the 
production  of  a  drama  in  five  acts  and  twelve 
tableaux. 

For  that  matter  I  was  no  exception  to  the  rule. 
Every  French  school-boy  has  written,  is  writing, 
or  will  write  a  play. 


My  drama  was  a  highly  moral  one  of  the 
sensational  class.  Blood-curdling,  horrible,  terri- 
ble, savage,  weird,  human,  fiendish,  fascinating, 
irresistible — it  was  all  that.  I  showed  how,  even 
in  this  world,  crime,  treachery,  and  falsehood, 
though  triumphant  for  a  time,  must  in  the  long 
run  have  their  day  of  reckoning.  Never  did  a 
modern  Drury  Lane  audience  see  virtue  more 
triumphant  and  vice  more  utterly  confounded 
than  the  Parisians  would  have  in  my  play,  if 
only  the  theatrical  directors  had  not  been  so 
stupid  as  to  refuse  my  chef-cTceuvrc* 


4  John  Bull,  Jr. 

For  it  was  refused,  inconceivable  as  it  seemed 
to  me  at  the  time. 

The  directors  of  French  theatres  are  accus- 
tomed to  send  criticisms  of  the  plays  which 
"  they  regret  to  be  unable  to  accept." 

The  criticism  I  received  from  the  director  of 
the  Ambigu  Theatre  was,  I  thought,  highly  en- 
couraging. 

"My  play,"  it  appeared,  "showed  no  expe- 
rience of  the  stage  ;  but  it  was  full  of  well-con- 
ceived scenes  and  happy  mots,  and  was  written 
in  excellent  French.  Horrors,  however,  were 
too  piled  up,  and  I  seemed  to  have  forgotten 
that  spectators  should  be  allowed  time  to  take 
breath  and  wipe  away  their  tears." 

I  was  finally  advised  not  to  kill  all  my  dramatis 
persona  in  my  next  dramatic  production,  as  it 
was  customary  for  one  of  them  to  come  forward 
and  announce  the  name  of  the  author  at  the  end 
of  the  first  performance. 

Although  this  little  bit  of  advice  appeared  to 
me  not  altogether  free  from  satire,  there  was  in 
the  letter  more  praise  than  I  had  expected,  and 
I  felt  proud  and  happy.  The  letter  was  passed 
round  in  the  class-room,  commented  upon  in 
the  playground,  and  I  was  so  excited  that  I 
can  perfectly  well  remember  how  I  forgot  to 
learn  my  repetition  that  day,  and  how  I  got 
forty  lines  of  the  Ars  Poetica  to  write  out  five 
times. 


John  Bull,  Jr.  5 

What   a    take-down,    this  imposition   upon  a 
budding  dramatic  author  ! 


Examinations  to  prepare  compelled  me  for 
some  time  to  postpone  all  idea  of  astonishing  the 
Paris  playgoers  with  a  "  new  and  original " 
drama. 

I  took  my  B.A.  at  the  end  of  that  year,  and 
my  B.Sc.  at  the  end  of  the  following  one.  Three 
years  later  I  was  leaving  the  military  school  with 
the  rank  of  sub-lieutenant. 

My  uniform  was  lovely  ;  and  if  I  had  only  had 
as  much  gold  in  my  pockets  as  on  my  shoulders, 
sleeves,  and  breast,  I  think  I  ought  to  have  been 
the  happiest  being  on  earth. 

The  proudest  day  of  a  young  French  officer's 
life  is  the  day  on  which  he  goes  out  in  the  street 
for  the  first  time  with  all  his  ironmongery  on, 
his  moustache  curled  up,  his  cap  on  his  right  ear, 
his  sabre  in  his  left  hand.  The  soldiers  he 
meets  salute  him,  the  ladies  seem  to  smile  ap- 
provingly upon  him  ;  he  feels  like  the  conquer- 
ing hero~of  the  day  ;  all  is  bright  before  him  ; 
battles  only  suggest  to  him  victories  and  pro- 
motions. 

On  the  first  day,  his  mother  generally  asks  to 
accompany  him,  and  takes  his  arm.  Which  is 
the  prouder  of  the  two  ?  the  young  warrior,  full 


6  John  Bull,  Jr. 

of  confidence  and  hope,  or  the  dear  old  lady 
who  looks  at  the  passers-by  with  an  air  that 
says  :  "  This  is  my  son,  ladies  and  gentlemen. 
As  for  you,  young  ladies,  he  can't  have  all  of 
you,  you  know." 

Poor  young  officer  !  dear  old  mother  !  They 
little  knew,  in  1869,  that  in  a  few  months 
one  would  be  lying  in  a  military  hospital  on  a 
bed  of  torture,  and  the  other  would  be  wonder- 
ing for  five  mortal  months  whether  her  dear  and 
only  child  was  dead,  or  prisoner  in  some  German 
fortress. 


On  the  i gth  of  July,  1870,  my  regiment  left 
Versailles  for  the  Eastern  frontier. 

As  in  these  pages  I  simply  intend  to  say  how 
I  came  to  make  the  acquaintance  of  English 
school-boys,  it  would  be  out  of  place,  if  not  some- 
what pretentious,  to  make  use  of  my  recollections 
of  the  Franco-Prussian  War. 

Yet  I  cannot  pass  over  two  episodes  of  those 
troublous  times. 


I  was  twelve  years  of  age  when  I  struck  up  a 
friendship  with  a  young  Pole,  named  Gajeski, 
who  was  in  the  same  class  with  me.  We  became 
inseparable  chums.  Year  after  year  we  got  pro- 
moted at  the  same  time.  We  took  our  degrees 


John  Bull,  Jr.  ^ 

on  the  same  days,  entered  the  military  school  in 
the  same  year,  and  received  our  commissions  in 
the  same  regiment. 

We  took  a  small  appartement  de  garfon  at 
Versailles,  and  I  shall  never  forget  the  delightful 
evenings  we  spent  together  while  in  garrison 
there.  He  was  a  splendid  violinist,  and  I  was  a 
little  of  a  pianist. 

Short,  fair,  and  almost  beardless,  Gajeski  was 
called  the  "  Petit  Lieutenant  "  by  the  soldiers, 
who  all  idolized  him. 

At  the  battle  of  Worth,  after  holding  our 
ground  from  nine  in  the  morning  till  five  in  the 
evening,  against  masses  of  Prussian  troops  six 
times  as  numerous  as  our  own,  we  were  ordered 
to  charge  the  enemy,  with  some  other  cavalry 
regiments,  in  order  to  protect  the  retreat  of  the 
bulk  of  the  army. 

A  glance  at  the  hill  opposite  convinced  us 
that  we  were  ordered  to  go  to  certain  death. 

My  dear  friend  grasped  my  hand,  as  he  said 
with  a  sad  smile  :  "  We  shall  be  lucky  if  we  get 
our  bones  out  of  this,  old  fellow." 

Down  the  hill  we  went  like  the  wind,  through 
a  shower  of  bullets  and  mitraille.  Two  minutes 
later,  about  two-thirds  of  the  regiment  reached 
the  opposite  ascent.  We  were  immediately  en- 
gaged in  a  desperate  hand-to-hand  fight.  A  scene 
of  hellish  confusion  it  was.  But  there,  amidst  the 
awful  din  of  battle,  I  heard  Gajeski's  death-cry,  as 


8  John  Bull,  Jr. 

he  fell  from  his  horse  three  or  four  yards  from  me, 
and  I  saw  a  horrible  gash  on  his  fair  young  head. 

The  poor  boy  had  paid  France  for  the  hos- 
pitality she  had  extended  to  his  father. 

I  fought  like  a  madman,  seeing  nothing  but 
that  dear  mutilated  face  before  my  eyes.  I  say 
"  like  a  madman,"  for  it  was  not  through  courage 
or  bravery.  In  zmelee  you  fight  like  a  madman — 
like  a  savage. 

I  had  no  brother,  but  he  had  been  more  than  a 
brother  to  me.  I  had  had  no  other  companion 
or  friend,  but  he  was  a  friend  of  a  thousand. 

Poor  fellow  !  * 

*  * 

I  had  been  in  captivity  in  a  stronghold  on  the 
Rhine  for  five  months,  when  the  preliminaries  of 
peace  were  signed  between  France  and  Germany 
in  January,  1871,  and  the  French  prisoners 
were  sent  back  to  their  country. 

About  five  hundred  of  us  were  embarked  at 
Hamburg  on  board  one  of  the  steamers  of  the 
Compagnie  Transatlantique,  and  landed  at  Cher- 
bourg. 

Finding  myself  near  home,  I  immediately 
asked  the  general  in  command  of  the  district  for 
a  few  days'  leave,  to  go  and  see  my  mother. 

Since  the  day  I  had  been  taken  prisoner  at 
Sedan  (2d  of  September,  1870),  I  had  not  re- 
ceived a  single  letter  from  her,  as  communica- 
tions were  cut  off  between  the  east  and  the  west 


John  Bull,  Jr.  9 

of  France  ;  and  I  learned  later  on  that  she  had 
not  received  any  of  the  numerous  letters  I  had 
written  to  her  from  Germany. 

This  part  of  Normandy  had  been  fortunate 
enough  to  escape  the  horrors  of  war,  but,  for 
months,,  the  inhabitants  had  had  to  lodge  sol- 
diers and  militia-men. 

At  five  o'clock  on  a  cold  February  morning, 
clothed,  or  rather  covered,  in  my  dirty,  half- 
. ragged  uniform,  I  rang  the  bell  at  my  mother's 
house. 

Our  old  servant  appeared  at  the  attic  window, 
and  inquired  what  I  wanted. 

"  Open  the  door,"  I  cried ;  "  I  am  dying  of 
cold." 

"  We  can't  lodge  you  here,"  she  replied  ;  "  we 
have  as  many  soldiers  as  we  can  accommodate — 
there  is  no  room  for  you.  Go  to  the  Town  Hall, 
they  will  tell  you  we  are  full." 

"  Sapristi,  my  good  Fanchette,"  I  shouted, 
"  don't  you  know  me  ?  How  is  mother  ?  " 

"  Ah  !  It  is  Monsieur  !  "  she  screamed.  And 
she  rushed  down,  filling  the  house  with  her  cries  : 
"  Madame,  madame,  it  is  Monsieur  ;  yes,  I  have 
seen  him,  lie  has  spoken  to  me,  it  is  Monsieur." 

A  minute  after  I  was  in  my  mother's  arms. 

Was  it  a  dream  ? 

She  looked  at  me  wildly,  touching  my  head  to 
make  sure  I  was  at  her  side,  in  reality,  alive ; 
when  she  realized  the  truth  she  burst  into  tears, 


io  John  Bull,  Jr. 

and  remained  speechless  for  some  time.  Such 
scenes  are  more  easily  imagined  than  described, 
and  I  would  rather  leave  it  to  the  reader  to  sup- 
ply all  the  exclamations  and  interrogations  that 
followed. 


I  could  only  spend  two  days  at  home,  as  my 
regiment  was  being  organized  in  Paris,  and  I  had 
to  join  it. 

On  the  i8th  of  March,  1871,  the  people  of 
Paris,  in  possession  of  all  the  armament  that  had 
been  placed  in  their  hands  to  defend  the  French 
capital  against  the  Prussians,  proclaimed  the 
Commune,  and,  probably  out  of  a  habit  just 
lately  got  into  by  the  French  army,  we  retreated 
to  Versailles,  leaving  Paris  at  the  mercy  of  the 
Revolutionists. 

This  is  not  the  place  to  account  for  this  revo- 
lution. 

An  explanation  of  it,  which  always  struck  me 
as  somewhat  forcible,  is  the  one  given  by  a  Com- 
munist prisoner  to  a  captain,  a  friend  of  mine, 
who  was  at  the  time  acting  as  juge  (T instruction 
to  one  of  the  Versailles  courts-martial. 

"  Why  did  you  join  the  Commune?"  he  asked 
a  young  and  intelligent-looking  fellow  who  had 
been  taken  prisoner  behind  some  barricade. 

"  Well,  captain,  I  can  hardly  tell  you.  We 
were  very  excited  in  Paris  ;  in  fact,  off  our  heads 


John  Bull,  Jr.  ir 

with  rage  at  having  been  unable  to  save  Paris. 
We  had  a  considerable  number  of  cannon  and 
ammunition,  which  we  were  not  allowed  to  use 
against  the  Prussians.  We  felt  like  a  sportsman 
who,  after  a  whole  day's  wandering  through  the 
country,  has  not  had  an  opportunity  of  discharg- 
ing his  gun  at  any  game,  and  who,  out  of  spite, 
shoots  his  dog,  just  to  be  able  to  say  on  return- 
ing home  that  he  had  killed  something." 


On  the  i4th  of  April,  1871,  my  regiment  re- 
ceived the  order  to  attack  the  Neuilly  bridge,  a 
formidable  position  held  by  the  Communists. 

What  the  Prussians  had  not  done  some  com- 
patriot of  mine  succeeded  in  doing.  I  fell  se- 
verely wounded. 

After  my  spending  five  months  in  the  Ver- 
sailles military  hospital,  and  three  more  at  home 
in  convalescence,  the  army  surgeons  declared 
that  I  should  no  longer  be  able  to  use  my  right 
arm  for  military  purposes,  and  I  was  granted  a 
lieutenant's  pension,  which  would  have  been 
just  sufficient  to  keep  me  in  segars  if  I  had  been 
a  smoker. 

But  of  this  I  do  not  complain.  Poor  France ! 
she  had  enough  to  pay  ! 


At  the  end  of  the  year  of  grace,  1871,  my  posi- 


12  John  Bull,  Jr. 

tion  was  very  much  like  that  of  my  beloved 
country  :  all  seemed  lost,  fors  I'honneur. 

Through  my  friends,  however,  I  was  soon 
offered  a  choice  between  two  "social  positions." 

The  first  was  a  colonel's  commission  in  the 
Egyptian  army  (it  seemed  that  the  state  of  my 
right  arm  was  no  objection). 

I  was  to  draw  a  very  good  salary.  My  friends 
in  Cairo,  however,  warned  me  that  salaries  were 
not  always  paid  very  regularly,  but  sometimes 
allowed  to  run  on  till  cash  came  into  the  Treas- 
ury. It  was  during  the  good  times  of  Ismail 
Pacha.  This  made  me  a  little  suspicious  that  my 
salary  might  run  on  so  fast  that  I  should  not  be 
able  to  catch  it. 

The  other  post  offered  me  was  that  of  London 
correspondent  to  an  important  Parisian  news- 
paper. 


I  had  had  enough  of  military  "  glory  "  by  this 
time.  Yet  the  prospect  of  an  adventurous  life  is 
always  more  or  less  fascinating  at  twenty-three 
years  of  age. 

Being  the  only  child  of  a  good  widowed 
mother,  I  thought  I  would  take  her  valuable 
advice  on  the  subject. 

I  am  fortunate  in  having  a  mother  full  of 
common  sense.  With  her  French  provincial 
ideas,  she  was  rather  startled  to  hear  that  a  dis- 


John  Bull,  Jr.  13 

abled  lieutenant  could  all  at  once  become  an 
active  colonel.  She  thought  that  somehow  the 
promotion  was  too  rapid. 

Alas !  she,  too,  had  had  enough  of  military 
"glory." 

Her  advice  was  to  be  followed,  for  it  was 
formulated  thus:  "You  speak  English  pretty 
well ;  we  have  a  good  many  friends  in 
England ;  accept  the  humbler  offer,  and  go  to 
England  to  earn  an  honest  living." 

This  is  how  I  was  not  with  Arabi  Pacha  on 
the  wrong  side  at  Tel-el-Kebir,  and  how  it 
became  my  lot  to  make  one  day  the  acquaint- 
ance of  the  British  school-boy  of  whom  I  shall 
have  more  to  say  by-and-by. 


On  the  8th  of  July,  1872,  I  took  the  London 
train  at  the  Gare  du  Nord,  Paris. 

Many  relations  and  friends  came  to  the  station 
to  see  me  off.  Some  had  been  in  England,  some 
had  read  books  on  England,  but  all  seemed  to 
know  a  great  deal  about  it.  Advice,  cautions, 
suggestions,  were  poured  into  my  ears. 

"Be  sure  you  go  and  see  Madame  Tussaud's 
to-morrow,"  said  one. 

"  Now,"  said  another,  "  when  you  get  to  Char- 
ing Cross,  don't  fail  to  try  and  catch  hold  of  a 


14  John  Bull,  Jr. 

•fellow-passenger's  coat,  and  hold  fast  till  you 
get  to  your  hotel.  The  fog  is  so  thick  in  the 
evening  that  the  lamp-lights  are  of  no  use,  you 
know." 

All  information  is  valuable  when  you  start  for 
a  foreign  country.  But  I  could  not  listen  to 
more.  Time  was  up. 

I  shook  hands  with  my  friends  and  kissed  my 
relations,  including  an  uncle  and  two  cousins  of 
the  sterner  sex.  This  will  sound  strange  to 
English  or  American  ears.  Well,  it  sounds  just 
as  strange  to  mine,  now. 

I  do  not  know  that  a  long  residence  in  Eng- 
land has  greatly  improved  me  (though  my 
English  friends  say  it  has),  but  what  I  do  know 
is,  that  I  could  not  now  kiss  a  man,  even  if  he 
were  a  bequeathing  uncle  ready  to  leave  me  all 
his  money. 


John  Bull,  Jr.  15 


II. 


EXTRACTS    FROM    THE    DIARY    OF  A    FRENCHMAN 
IN  SEARCH  OF  A  SOCIAL  POSITION  IN  ENGLAND. 

ARRIVAL  AT  CHARING  CROSS.— I  HAVE  NOTHING  TO 
DECLARE  TO  THE  EXCISEMAN  BUT  Low  SPIRITS.— DIF- 
FICULTY IN  FINDING  A  GOOD  RESIDENCE.— BOARD  AND 
LODGING.— A  HOUSE  WITH  CREEPERS.— THINGS  LOOK 
BAD.— THINGS  LOOK  WORSE.— THINGS  LOOK  CHEER- 
FUL. 


8///  July,  1872. 

8.30  P.M. — Landed  at  Folkestone.  The  Lon- 
don train  is  ready.  The  fog  is  very  thick.  I 
expected  as  much.  My  English  traveling  com- 
panions remark  on  it,  and  exclaim  that  "  this  is 
most  unusual  weather."  This  makes  me  smile. 

10.15  p-  M- — The  train  crosses  the  Thames. 
We  are  in  London.  This  is  not  my  station,  how- 
ever, I  am  told.  The  train  restarts  almost  immedi- 
ately, and  crosses  the  river  again.  Perhaps  it 
takes  me  back  to  Paris.  Hallo!  how  strange! 
the  train  crosses  another  river. 


1 6  John  Bull,  Jr. 

"  This  is  a  town  very  much  like  Amsterdam," 
I  say  to  my  neighbor. 

He  explains  to  me  the  round  taken  by  the 
South-Eastern  trains  from  Cannon  Street  to 
Charing  Cross. 

10.25  P.  M. — Charing  Cross!  At  last,  here  I 
am.  The  luggage  is  on  the  platform.  I  recog- 
nize my  trunk  and  portmanteau. 

A  tall  official  addresses  me  in  a  solemn  tone  : 

"  Have  you  any  thing  to  declare  ?  " 

"Not  any  thing." 

"No  segars,  tobacco,  spirits?" 

"  No  segars,  no  tobacco." 

My  spirits  were  so  low  that  I  thought  it  was 
useless  to  mention  them. 

In  France,  in  spite  of  this  declaration  of 
mine,  my  luggage  would  have  been  turned  inside 
out.  The  sturdy  Briton  takes  my  word*  and 
dismisses  my  luggage  with: 

"  All  right.     Take  it  away." 

1 1  P.  M. — I  alight  at  an  hotel  near  the  Strand. 
A  porter  comes  to  take  my  belongings. 

"I  want  a  bedroom  for  the  night,"  I  say. 

" Trh  bien,  monsieur." 

He  speaks  French.  The  hotel  is  French,  too, 
I  see. 


*  Things  have  changed  in  England  since  the  dynamite 
scare. 


John  Bull,  Jr.  17 

After  a  wash  and  brush-up,  I  come  down  to 
the  dining-room  for  a  little  supper. 

I  do  not  like  the  look  of  the  company. 

They  may  be  French,  and  this  is  a  testimo- 
nial in  their  favor,  but  I  am  afraid  it  is  the  only 
one. 

Three  facetious  bagmen  exercise  their  wit  by 
puzzling  the  waiter  with  low  French  slang. 

I  think  I  will  remove  from  here  to-morrow. 

I  go  to  my  bedroom,  and  try  to  open  the  win- 
dow and  have  a  look  at  the  street.  I  discover 
the  trick. 

How  like  guillotines  are  these  English  win- 
dows ! 

I  pull  up  the  bottom  part  of  mine,  and  look 
out.  This  threatening  thing  about  my  neck 
makes  me  uncomfortable.  I  withdraw. 

English  windows  are  useful,  no  doubt,  but  it  is 
evident  that  the  people  of  this  country  do  not 
use  them  to  look  out  in  the  street  and  have  a 
quiet  chat  a  la  frangaise. 

Probably  the  climate  would  not  allow  it. 


qth  July,  1872. 

A  friend  comes  to  see  me.      He  shares  my 
opinion  of  the  French  hotel,  and  will  look  for  a 


1 8  John  Bull,  Jr. 

comfortable  apartment  in  an  English  house  for 
me.  We  breakfast  together,  and  I  ask  him  a 
thousand  questions. 

He  knows  every  thing,  it  seems,  and  I  gather 
valuable  information  rapidly. 

He  prepares  a  programme  of  sight-seeing 
which  it  will  take  me  a  good  many  days  to 
work  through. 

The  weather  is  glorious. 

My  boxes  are  packed  and  ready  to  be  re- 
moved— to-night,  I  hope. 

Will  pay  my  first  visit  to  the  British  Museum. 

I  hail  a  cab  in  Regent  Circus. 

"  Is  the  British  Museum  far  from  here  ?  "  I  cry 
to  the  man  seated  on  a  box  behind. 

"  No,  sir  ;  I  will  take  you  there  for  a  shilling," 
he  replies. 

"Oh  !  thank  you  ;  I  think  I  will  walk  then." 

Cabby  retires  muttering  a  few  sentences  unin- 
telligible to  me.  Only  one  word  constantly 
occurring  in  his  harangue  can  I  remember. 

I  open  my  pocket-dictionary. 

Good  heavens  !  What  have  I  said  to  the  man  ? 
What  has  he  taken  me  for?  Have  I  used  words 
conveying  to  his  mind  any  intention  of  mine  to 
take  his  precious  life?  Do  I  look  ferocious? 
Why  did  he  repeatedly  call  me  sanguinaire  f 
Must  have  this  mystery  cleared  up. 


John  Bull,  Jr.  19 

loth  July,  1872. 

An  English  friend  sets  my  mind  at  rest  about 
the  little  event  of  yesterday.  He  informs  me 
that  the  adjective  in  question  carries  no  mean- 
ing. It  is  simply  a  word  that  the  lower  classes 
have  to  place  before  each  substantive  they  use 
in  order  to  be  able  to  understand  each  other. 


nth  July,  1872. 

Have  taken  apartments  in  the  neighborhood 
of  Baker  Street.  My  landlady,  qui  frise  ses  che- 
veux  et  la  cinquantaine,  enjoys  the  name  of 
Tribble.  She  is  a  plump,  tidy,  and  active-look- 
ing little  woman. 

On  the  door  there  is  a  plate,  with  the  inscrip- 
tion, 

"  J.  Tribble,  General  Agent." 

Mr.  Tribble,  it  seems,  is  not  very  much  en- 
gaged in  business. 

At  home  he  makes  himself  useful. 

It  was  this  gentleman,  more  or  less  typical 
in  London,  whom  I  had  in  my  mind's  eye  as 
I  once  wrote  : 

"  The  English  social  failure  of  the  male  sex 
not  unfrequently  entitles  himself  General  Agent : 
this  is  the  last  straw  he  clutches  at  ;  if  it  should 
break,  he  sinks,  and  is  heard  of  no  more,  unless 


2O  John  £ull,  Jr. 

his  wife  come  to  the  rescue,  by  setting  up  a 
lodging-house  or  a  boarding-school  for  young 
ladies.  There,  once  more  in  smooth  water,  he 
wields  the  blacking-brush,  makes  acquaintance 
with  the  knife-board,  or  gets  in  the  provisions. 
In  allowing  himself  to  be  kept  by  his  wife,  he 
feels  he  loses  some  dignity ;  but  if  she  should 
adopt  any  airs  of  superiority  over  him,  he  can 
always  bring  her  to  a  sense  of  duty  by  beating 
her." 


\2th  July,  1872. 

Mr.  Tribble  helps  take  up  my  trunks.  On  my 
way  to  bed  my  landlady  informs  me  that  her 
room  adjoins  mine,  and  if  I  need  any  thing  in 
the  night  I  have  only  to  ask  for  it. 

This  landlady  will  be  a  mother  to  me,  I  can 
see. 

The  bed  reminds  me  of  a  night  I  passed  in  a 
cemetery,  during  the  Commune,  sleeping  on  a 
gravestone.  I  turn  and  toss,  unable  to  get  any 
rest. 

Presently  I  had  the  misfortune  to  hit  my  el- 
bow against  the  mattress. 

A  knock  at  the  door. 

"  Who  is  there  ? "  I  cry. 

"  Can  I  get  you  any  thing,  sir  ?    I  hope  you 


John  Bull,  Jr.  21 

are  not  ill,"  says  a  voice  which  I  recognize  as 
that  of  my  landlady. 

"  No,  why  ?  " 

•'  I  thought  you  knocked,  sir." 

"  No.  Oh  !  I  knocked  my  elbow  against  the 
iruittress." 

"  Ah  !  that's  it.     I  beg  your  pardon." 

I  shall  be  well  attended  here,  at  all  events. 


13/7*  July,  1872. 

The  table  here  is  not  recherchd  ';  but  twelve 
months'  campaigning  have  made  me  tolerably 
easy  to  please. 

What  would  not  the  poor  Parisians  have  given, 
during  the  Siege  in  1870,  for  some  of  Mrs.  Trib- 
ble's  obdurate  poultry  and  steaks  ! 


igth  July,  1872. 

I  ask  Mrs.  Tribble  for  my  bill. 
I  received  it  immediately  ;  it  is  a  short  and 
comprehensive  one  : 

£   *.    d. 

Board  and  Lodging         -55° 
Sundries        -         -         -     i    13     6 

Total     -     £6    1 8      6 


22  John  Bull,  Jr. 

I  can  understand  "lodging";  but  "board" 
is  a  new  word  to  me.  I  like  to  know  what  it  is 
I  have  to  pay  for,  and  I  open  my  dictionary. 

"Board  (subst.),//a«^<r." 

P lane  he !  Why  does  the  woman  charge  me 
for  a  planche  ?  Oh  !  I  have  it — that's  the  bed, 
of  course. 

My  dictionary  does  not  enlighten  me  on  the 
subject  of  "Sundries." 

I  make  a  few  observations  to  Mrs.  Tribble  on 
the  week's  bill.  This  lady  explains  to  me  that 
she  has  had  great  misfortunes,  that  Tribble 
hardly  does  any  work,  and  does  not  contribute 
a  penny  toward  the  household  expenses.  When 
he  has  done  a  little  stroke  of  business,  he  takes 
a  holiday,  and  only  reappears  when  his  purse  is 
empty. 

I  really  cannot  undertake  to  keep  Tribble  in 
dolce  far  nientc,  and  I  give  Mrs.  Tribble  notice 
to  leave. 


2oth  July,  1872. 

9  A.M. — I  read  in  this  morning's  paper  the  fol- 
lowing advertisement : 

"  Residence,  with  or  without  board,  for  a  gen- 
tleman, in  a  healthy  suburb  of  London.  Charm- 
ing house,  with  creepers,  large  garden  ;  cheerful 
home.  Use  of  piano,  etc." 


John  Bull,  Jr.  23 

"  Without  board  "  is  what  I  want.  Must  go 
and  see  the  place. 

6  P.M. — I  have  seen  the  house  with  creepers, 
and  engaged  a  bedroom  and  sitting-room.  Will 
go  there  to-night.  My  bed  is  provided  with  a 
spring  mattress.  Won't  I  sleep  to-night,  that's 
all! 


2\st  July,  1872. 

I  remove  my  goods  and  chattels  from  the 
charming  house.  I  found  the  creepers  were  in- 
side. 

It  will  take  me  a  long  time  to  understand 
English,  I  am  afraid. 


St/i  August,  1872. 

I  examine  my  financial  position.  I  came  to 
England  with  fifty  pounds  ;  have  been  here 
thirty  days,  and  have  lived  at  the  rate  of  a  pound 
a  day.  My  money  will  last  me  only  twenty  days 
longer.  This  seems  to  be  a  simple  application 
of  the  rule  of  three. 

The  thought  that  most  Lord-Mayors  have 
come  to  London  with  only  half-a-crown  in  their 
pockets  comforts  me.  Still  I  grow  reflective. 


24  John  Bull,  Jr. 

2$th  September,  1872. 

I  can  see  that  the  fee  I  receive  for  the  weekly 
letter  I  send  to  my  Parisian  paper  will  not  suf- 
fice to  keep  me.  Good  living  is  expensive  in 
London.  Why  should  I  not  reduce  my  expenses, 
and  at  the  same  time  improve  my  English  by 
teaching  French  in  an  English  school  as  resident 
master  ?  This  would  enable  me  to  wait  and  see 
what  turn  events  will  take. 

I  have  used  my  letters  of  recommendation  as 
a  means  of  obtaining  introductions  in  society, 
and  my  pride  will  not  let  me  make  use  of  them 
again  for  business. 

I  will  disappear  for  a  time.  When  my  English 
is  more  reliable,  perhaps  an  examination  will 
open  the  door  of  some  good  berth  to  me. 

* 
*  * 

yd  October,  1872. 

Received  this  morning  an  invitation  to  be 
present  at  a  meeting  of  the  Teachers'  Associa- 
tion. 

Came  with  a  friend  to  the  Society  of  Arts, 
where  the  meeting  is  held  in  a  beautiful  hall, 
and  presided  over  by  Canon  Barry. 

What  a  graceful  and  witty  speaker  ! 

He  addresses  to  private  school  masters  a  few 
words  on  their  duty. 


John  Bull,  Jr.  25 

"Yours,"  he  says,  "is  not  only  a  profession,  it 
is  a  vocation,  I  had  almost  said  a  ministry " 
(hear,  hear),  "and  the  last  object  of  yours 
should  be  to  make  money." 

This  last  sentence  is  received  with  rapturous 
applause.  The  chairman  has  evidently  ex- 
pressed the  feeling  of  the  audience. 

The  Canon  seems  to  enjoy  himself  immensely. 

Beautiful  sentiments  !  I  say  to  myself.  Who 
will  henceforth  dare  say  before  me,  in  France, 
that  England  is  not  a  disinterested  nation  ?  Yes, 
I  will  be  a  schoolmaster  ;  it  is  a  noble  profes- 
sion. 

A  discussion  takes  place  on  the  merits  of 
private  schools.  A  good  deal  of  abuse  is  in- 
dulged in  at  the  expense  of  the  public  schools. 

I  inquire  of  my  friend  the  reason  why. 

My  friend  is  a  sceptic.  He  says  that  the  pub- 
lic schools  are  overflowing  with  boys,  and  that 
if  they  did  not  exist,  many  of  these  private 
school  masters  would  make  their  fortune. 

I  bid  him  hold  his  wicked  tongue.  He  ought 
to  be  ashamed  of  himself. 

The  meeting  is  over.  The  orators,  with  their 
speeches  in  their  hands,  besiege  the  press 
reporters'  table.  I  again  apply  to  my  friend  for 
the  explanation  of  this. 

He  tells  me  that  these  gentlemen  are  trying  to 
persuade  the  reporters  to  insert  their  speeches 
in  their  notes,  in  the  hope  that  they  will  be 


^6  John  Bull,  Jr. 

reproduced   in    to-morrow's    papers,   and    thus 
advertise  their  names  and  schools. 

My  friend  is  incorrigible.     I  will  ask  him  no 
more  questions. 


4th  October,  1872. 

There  will  be  some  people  disappointed  this 
morning,  if  I  am  to  believe  what  my  friend  said 
yesterday.  I  have  just  read  the  papers.  Under 
the  heading  "  Meeting  of  the  Teachers'  Associa- 
tion," 1  see  a  long  report  of  yesterday's  proceed- 
ings at  the  Society  of  Arts.  Canon  Barry's 
speech  alone  is  reproduced. 


24/>$  May,  1873. 

For  many  months  past,  M.  Thiers  has  carried 
the  Government  with  his  resignation  already 
signed  in  his  frockcoat  pocket. 

"Gentlemen,"  he  has  been  wont  to  say  in  the 
Houses  of  Parliament,  "  such  is  my  policy.  If 
you  do  not  approve  it,  you  know  that  I  do  not 
cling  to  power  ;  my  resignation  is  here  in  my 
pocket,  and  I  am  quite  ready  to  lay  it  on  the 
table  if  you  refuse  me  a  vote  of  confidence." 


John  Bull,  Jr.  27 

thought    that    he  would   use   this 
weapon  once  too  often. 

A  letter,  just  received  from  Paris,  brings  me 
the  news  of  his  overthrow  and  the  proclamation 
of  Marshal  MacMahon  as  President  of  the 
Republic. 


2&th  May,  1873. 

The  editor  of  the  French  paper,  of  which  I 
have  been  the  London  correspondent  for  a  few 
months,  sends  me  a  check,  with  the  sad  intelli- 
gence that  one  of  the  first  acts  of  the  new  Gov- 
ernment has  been  to  suppress  our  paper. 

Things  are  taking  a  gloomy  aspect,  and  no 
mistake. 


\zth  June,  1873. 

To  return  to  France  at  once  would  be  a 
retreat,  a  defeat.  I  will  not  leave  England,  at 
any  rate,  before  I  can  speak  English  correctly 
and  fluently.  I  could  manage  this  when  a 
child ;  it  ought  not  to  take  me  very  long  to  be 
able  to  do  the  same  now. 

I  pore  over  the  Times  educational  advertise- 
ments every  day. 

Have  left  my  name  with  two  scholastic  agents. 


28  John  Bull,  Jr. 

2$fh  June,  1873. 

I  have  put  my  project  into  execution,  and 
engaged  myself  in  a  school  in  Somersetshire. 

The  post  is  not  a  brilliant  one,  but  I  am  told 
that  the  country  is  pretty,  my  duties  light,  and 
that  I  shall  have  plenty  of  time  for  reading. 

I  buy  a  provision  of  English  books,  and  mean 
to  work  hard. 

In  the  mean  time,  I  write  to  my  friends  in 
France  that  I  am  getting  on  swimmingly. 

I  have  always  been  of  the  opinion  that  you 
should  run  the  risk  of  exciting  the  envy  rather 
than  the  pity  of  your  friends,  when  you  have 
made  up  your  mind  not  to  apply  to  them  for  a 
five-pound  note. 


(M ,  Somerset.)     zd  August,  1873. 

Arrived  here  yesterday.  Find  I  am  the  only 
master,  and  expected  to  make  myself  generally 
useful.  My  object  is  to  practice  my  English,  and 
I  am  prepared  to  overlook  many  annoyances. 

Woke  up  this  (Sunday)  morning  feeling  pains 
all  over.  Compared  to  this,  my  bed  at  Mrs. 
Tribble's  was  one  of  roses.  I  look  round.  In 
the  corner  I  see  a  small  washstand.  A  chair,  a 
looking-glass  six  inches  square  hung  on  the 
wall,  and  my  trunk,  make  up  the  furniture. 


John  Hull,  Jr.  29 

I  open  the  window.  It  is  raining  a  thick, 
drizzling  rain.  Not  a  soul  in  the  road.  A  most 
solemn,  awful  solitude.  Horrible !  I  make 
haste  to  dress.  From  a  little  cottage,  on  the 
other  side  of  the  road,  the  plaintive  sounds  of 
a  harmonium  reach  me.  I  sit  on  my  bed  and 
look  at  my  watch.  Half  an  hour  to  wait  for  my 
breakfast.  The  desolate  room,  this  outlook  from 
the  window,  the  whole  accompanied  by  the  hymn 
on  the  harmonium,  are  enough  to  drive  me  mad. 
Upon  my  word,  I  believe  I  feel  the  corner  of 
my  eye  wet.  Cheer  up,  boy  !  No  doubt  this  is 
awful,  but  better  times  will  come.  Good  heav- 
ens !  You  are  not  banished  from  France.  With 
what  pleasure  your  friends  will  welcome  you 
back  in  Paris  !  In  nine  hours,  for  a  few  shillings, 
you  can  be  on  the  Boulevards. 

Breakfast  is  ready.  It  consists  of  tea  and 
bread  and  butter,  the  whole  honored  by  the  pres- 
ence of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  R.  I  am  told  that  I  am 
to  take  the  boys  to  church.  I  should  have  much 
preferred  to  go  alone. 

On  the  way  to  church  we  met  three  young 
ladies — the  Squire's  daughters,  the  boys  tell  me. 
They  look  at  me  with  a  kind  of  astonishment 
that  seems  to  me  mixed  with  scorn.  This  is 
probably  my  fancy.  Every  body  I  meet  seems 
to  be  laughing  at  me. 


30  John  Bull,  Jr. 

2oM  August,  1873. 

Am  still  at  M.,  teaching  a  little  French  and 
learning  a  good  deal  of  English. 

Mrs.  R.  expresses  her  admiration  for  my  fine 
linen,  and  my  wardrobe  is  a  wonder  to  her. 
From  her  remarks,  I  can  see  she  has  taken  a 
peep  inside  my  trunk. 

Received  this  morning  a  letter  from  a  friend 
in  Paris.  The  dear  fellow  is  very  proud  of  his 
noble  ancestors,  and  his  notepaper  and  envelopes 
are  ornamented  with  his  crest  and  crown.  The 
letter  is  handed  to  me  by  Mrs.  R.,  who  at  the 
same  time  throws  a  significant  glance  at  her  hus- 
band. I  am  a  mysterious  person  in  her  eyes, 
that  is  evident.  She  expresses  her  respect  by 
discreetly  placing  a  boiled  egg  on  my  plate  at 
breakfast.  This  is  an  improvement,  and  I  return 
thanks  in  petto  to  my  noble  friend  in  Paris. 


22nd  August,  1873. 

Whatever  may  be  Mr.  R.'s  shortcomings,  he 
knows  how  to  construct  a  well-filled  time-table. 

I  rise  at  six. 

From  half-past  six  to  eight  I  am  in  the  class- 
room seeing  that  the  boys  prepare  their  lessons. 

At  eight  I  partake  of  a  frugal  breakfast. 


John  Bull,  Jr.  31 

From  half-past  eight  till  half-past  nine  I  take 
the  boys  for  a  walk. 

From  half-past  nine  till  one  I  teach  more  sub- 
jects than  I  feel  competent  to  do,  but  I  give 
satisfaction. 

At  one  I  dine. 

At  five  minutes  to  two  I  take  a  bell,  and  go 
in  the  fields,  ringing  as  hard  as  I  can  to  call  the 
boys  in. 

From  two  to  four  I  teach  more  subjects  than 
— (I  said  that  before). 

After  tea  I  take  the  boys  for  a  second  walk. 

My  evenings  are  mine,  and  I  dtvote  them  to 
study. 


2yd  August,  1873. 

Mr.  R.  proposes  that  I  should  teach  two  or 
three  new  subjects.  I  am  ready  to  comply 
with  his  wishes ;  but  I  sternly  refuse  to  teach 
la  valse  &  trots  temps. 

He  advises  me  to  cane  the  boys.  This  also  I 
refuse  to  do. 


i$th  September,  1873. 
I  cannot  stand  this  life  any  longer.       I  will 


3^  John  Bull,  Jr. 

return  to  France  if  things  do  not  take  a  brighter 
turn. 

I  leave  Mr.  R.  and  his  "  Dotheboys  Hall." 

At  the  station  I  meet  the  clergyman.  He  had 
more  than  once  spoken  to  me  a  few  kind  words. 
He  asks  me  where  I  am  going. 

"  To  London,  and  to  Paris  next,  I  hope,"  I 
reply. 

"  Are  you  in  a  hurry  to  go  back?" 

"  Not  particularly  ;  but " 

"  Well,  will  you  do  my  wife  and  myself  the 
pleasure  of  spending  a  few  days  with  us  at  the 
Vicarage?  We  shall  be  delighted  if  you  will." 

"  With  all  my  heart." 


2$th  September,  1873. 

Have  spent  a  charming  week  at  the  Vicarage 
— a  lovely  country-house,  where  for  the  first  time 
I  have  seen  what  real  English  life  is. 

I  have  spoken  to  my  English  friend  of  my 
prospects,  and  he  expresses  his  wonder  that  I 
do  not  make  use  of  the  letters  of  recommenda- 
tion that  I  possess,  as  they  would  be  sure  to 
secure  a  good  position  for  me. 

"  Are  not  important  posts  given  by  examina- 
tion in  this  country?"  I  exclaimed. 

But    he    informs  me    that  such   is  not    the 


John  Bull,  Jr.  33 

case  ;  that  these  posts  are  given,  at  elections, 
to  the  candidates  who  are  bearers  of  the  best 
testimonials. 

The  information  is  most  valuable,  and  I  will 
act  upon  my  friend's  advice. 

My  visit  has  been  as  pleasant  as  it  has  been 
useful. 


\2th  January,  1874. 

A  vacancy  occurred  lately  in  one  of  the  great 
public  schools.  I  sent  in  my  application,  ac- 
companied by  my  testimonials. 

Have  just  received  an  official  intimation  that 
I  am  elected  head-master  of  the  French  school 
at  St.  Paul's. 


i^th  January,  1874. 

One  piece  of  good  luck  never  comes  alone. 
I  am  again  appointed  London  correspondent 
to  one  of  the  principal  Paris  papers. 
Allans,  me  voila  sauvt ! 


34  John  Bull,  Jr. 


III. 


I  MAKE  THE  ACQUAINTANCE  OF  PUBLIC  SCHOOL  BOYS- 
—'•WHEN  I  WAS  A  LITTLE  BOY."— AN  AWFUL 
MOMENT.— A  SIMPLE  THEORY.— I  SCORE  A  SUCCESS. 


I  AM  not  quite  sure  that  the  best  qualification 
for  a  schoolmaster  is  to  have  been  a  very  good 
boy. 

I  never  had  great  admiration  for  very  good 
boys.  I  always  suspected,  when  they  were  too 
good,  that  there  was  something  wrong. 

When  I  was  at  school,  and  my  master  would 
go  in  for  the  recitation  of  the  litany  of  all  the 
qualities  and  virtues  he  possessed  when  a  boy — 
how  good,  how  dutiful,  how  obedient,  how  in- 
dustrious he  was — I  would  stare  at  him,  and 
think  to  myself  :  How  glad  that  man  must  be  he 
is  no  longer  a  boy  ! 

"  No,  my  dear  little  fellows,  your  master  was 
just  like  you  when  he  was  mamma's  little  boy. 
He  shirked  his  work  whenever  he  could  ;  he 
used  to  romp  and  tear  his  clothes  if  he  had  a 
chance,  and  was  far  from  being  too  good  for  this 


John  Bull,  Jr.  35 

world  ;  and  if  he  was  not  all  that,  well,  I  am  only 
sorry  for  him,  that's  all." 


I  believe  that  the  man  who  thoroughly  knows 
all  the  resources  of  the  mischievous  little  army 
he  has  to  fight  and  rule  is  better  qualified  and 
prepared  for  the  struggle. 

We  have  in  French  an  old  proverb  that  says  : 
"  It's  no  use  trying  to  teach  an  old  monkey  how 
to  make  faces." 

The  best  testimonial  in  favor  of  a  school- 
master is  that  the  boys  should  be  able  to  say  of 
him  :  "  It's  no  use  trying  this  or  that  with  him  ; 
he  always  knows  what  we  are  up  to." 

How  is  he  to  know  what  his  pupils  are  "  up  to  " 
if  he  has  not  himself  been  "up  to"  the  same 
tricks  and  games  ? 

The  base  of  all  strategy  is  the  perfect  know- 
ledge of  all  the  roads  of  the  country  in  which 
you  wage  war. 

To  be  well  up  in  all  the  ways  and  tricks  of  boys 
is  to  be  aware  of  all  the  moves  of  the  enemy. 


It  is  an  awful  moment  when,  for  the  first  time, 
you   take  your  seat  in    front  of  forty  pairs  of 


36  Jolin  Bull,  Jr. 

bright  eyes  that  are  fixed  upon  you,  and  seem  to 
say: 

"  Well,  what  shall  it  be  ?  Do  you  think  you 
can  keep  us  in  order,  or  are  we  going  to  let  you 
have  a  lively  time  of  it  ?  " 

All  depends  on  this  terrible  moment.  Your 
life  will  be  one  of  comfort,  and  even  happiness, 
or  one  of  utter  wretchedness. 

Strike  the  first  blow  and  win,  or  you  will  soon 
learn  that  if  you  do  not  get  the  better  of  the 
lively  crew  they  will  surely  get  the  better  of  you. 


I  was  prepared  for  the  baptism  of  fire. 

I  even  had  a  little  theory  that  had  once  ob- 
tained for  me  the  good  graces  of  a  head-master. 

This  gentleman  informed  me  that  the  poor 
fellow  I  was  going  to  replace  had  shot  himself 
in  despair  of  being  ever  able  to  keep  his  boys  in 
order,  and  he  asked  me  what  I  thought  of  it. 

"Well,"  I  unhesitatingly  answered,  "I  would 
have  shot  the  boys." 

"  Right  !  "  he  exclaimed  ;  "  you  are  my  man." 

If,  as  I  strongly  suspected  from  certain  early 
reminiscences,  to  have  been  a  mischievous  boy 
was  a  qualification  for  being  a  good  school- 
master, I  thought  I  ought  to  make  a  splendid 
one. 


John  Bull,  Jr.  37 

The  result  of  my  first  interview  with  British 
boys  was  that  we  understood  each  other  per- 
fectly. We  were  to  make  a  happy  family.  That 
was  settled  in  a  minute  by  a  few  glances  at  each 
other. 


38  John  Bull,  Jr. 


IV. 

THK  "  GENUS  "  BOY.— THE  ONLY  ONE  I  OBJECT  To. 
—WHAT  BOYS  WORK  FOR. 

BOYS  lose  their  charm  when  they  get  fifteen  or 
sixteen  years  of  age.  The  clever  ones,  no  doubt, 
become  more  interesting  to  the  teacher,  but  they 
no  longer  belong  to  the  genus  boy  that  you  love 
for  his  very  defects  as  much  as  for  his  good 
qualities. 

I  call  "boys"  that  delightful,  lovable  race  of 
young  scamps  from  eleven  to  fourteen  years  old. 
At  that  age  all  have  redeeming  points,  and  all 
are  lovable.  I  never  objected  to  any,  except 
perhaps  to  those  who  aimed  at  perfection,  espe- 
cially the  ones  who  were  successful  in  their 
efforts. 

For  my  part,  I  like  a  boy  with  a  redeeming 
fault  or  two. 

By  "  boys  "  I  mean  little  fellows  who  manage, 
after  a  game  of  football,  to  get  their  right  arm 
out  of  order,  that  they  may  be  excused  writing 
their  exercises  for  a  week  or  so  ;  who  do  not 


John  Bull,  Jr.  39 

work  because  they  have  an  examination  to  pre- 
pare, but  because  you  offer  them  an  inducement 
to  do  so,  whether  in  the  shape  of  rewards,  or 
maybe  something  less  pleasant  you  may  keep  in 
your  cupboard. 


40  John  Bull,  Jr. 


SCHOOL  BOYS  I  HAVE  MET. — PROMISING  BRITONS. — 
SLY-BOOTS. — Too  GOOD  FOR  THIS  WORLD. — "No, 
THANKS,  WE  MAKES  IT." — FRENCH  DICTIONARIKS. 
— A  NAUGHTY  BOY. — MOTHERS'  PETS. — DIRTY  BUT 
BEAUTIFUL. — JOHN  BULLY. — HIGH  COLLARS  AND 
BRAINS. — DICTATION  AND  ITS  TRIALS. — Nor  TO  BE 
TAKEN  IN.— UNLUCKY  BOYS.— THE  USE  OF  Two 
EARS.— A  BOY  WITH  ONE  IDEA.— MASTER  WHIRL- 
IGIG.—THE  INFLUENCE  OF  ATHLETICS.— A  GOOD 
SITUATION. — A  SHREWD  BOY  OF  BUSINESS. — MASTER 
ALGERNON  CADWALADR  SMYTH,  AND  OTHER  TYPICAL 
SCHOOLBOYS. 

MASTER  JOHNNY  BULL  is  a  good  little  boy 
who  sometimes  makes  slips  in  his  exercises,  but 
mistakes — never. 

He  occasionally  forgets  his  lesson,  but  he 
always  "knows"  it. 

"  Do  you  know  your  lesson  ? "  you  will  ask  him. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  he  will  reply. 

"  But  you  can't  say  it." 

"  Please,  sir,  I  forget  it  now." 

Memory  is  his  weak  point.  He  has  done  his 
best,  whatever  the  result  may  be.  Last  night  he 
knew  his  lesson  perfectly  ;  the  proof  is  that  he 


John  Bull,  Jr.  41 

said  it  to  his  mother,  and  that  the  excellent  lady 
told  him  he  knew  it  very  well.  Again  this 
morning,  as  he  was  in  the  train  coming  to  school, 
he  repeated  it  to  himself,  and  he  did  not  make 
one  mistake.  He  knows  he  didn't. 


If  he  has  done  but  two  sentences  of  his  home 
work,  "  he  is  afraid  "  he  has  not  quite  finished 
his  exercise. 

"  But,  my  dear  boy,  you  have  written  but  two 
sentences." 

"  Is  that  all  ?  "  he  will  inquire. 

"  That  is  all." 

"  Please,  sir,  I  thought  I  had  done  more  than 
that."  And  he  looks  at  it  on  all  sides,  turns  it 
to  the  right,  to  the  left,  upside  down  ;  he  reads 
it  forwards,  he  reads  it  backwards.  No  use  ;  he 
can't  make  it  out. 

All  at  once,  however,  he  will  remember  that 
he  had  a  bad  headache  last  night,  or  maybe  a 
bilious  attack. 

The  bilious  attack  is  to  the  English  schoolboy 
whatthew/^nw/^is  to  the  dear  ladies  of  France: 
a  good  maid-of-all-work. 


Sometimes  my  young  hero  brings  no  exercise 
at   all.       It   has   slipped,  in   the  train,  from  the 


42  John  Bull,  Jr. 

book  in  which  he  had  carefully  placed  it,  or  there 
is  a  crack  in  his  locker,  and  the  paper  slipped 
through.  You  order  excavations  to  be  made, 
and  the  exercise  has  vanished  like  magic. 
Johnny  wonders. 

"  Perhaps  the  mice  ate  it !  "  you  are  wicked 
enough  to  suggest. 

This  makes  him  smile  and  blush.  He  gene- 
rally collapses  before  a  remark  like  this. 


But  if  he  has  a  good  excuse,  behold  him  ! 

"  I  could  not  do  my  exercise  last  night,"  said 
to  me  6ne  day  a  young  Briton.  It  was  evident 
from  his  self-satisfied  and  confident  assurance 
that  he  had  a  good  answer  ready  for  my  in- 
quiry. 

"  You  couldn't,"  I  said  ;  "  why  ?  " 

"  Please,  sir,  grandmamma  died  last  night  !  " 

"  Oh  !  did  she  ?  Well,  well — I  hope  this  won't 
happen  again." 

This  put  me  in  mind  of  the  boy  who,  being 
reproached  for  his  many  mistakes  in  his  transla- 
tion, pleaded  : 

"  Please,  sir,  it  isn't  my  fault.  Papa  will 
help  me." 

~An    English    schoolboy  never  tells  stories — 
never. 

A  mother  once  brought  her  little  son  to  the 
head-master  of  a  great  public  school. 


John  Bull,  Jr.  43 

"  I  trust  my  son  will  do  honor  to  the  school," 
she  said  ;  "  he  is  a  good,  industrious,  clever,  and 
trustworthy  boy.  He  never  told  a  story  in  his 
life." 

"  Oh  !  madam,  boys  never  do,"  replied  the 
head-master. 

The  lady  left,  somewhat  indignant.  Did  the 
remark  amount  to  her  statement  being  disbelieved, 
or  to  an  affirmation  that  her  boy  was  no  better 
than  other  boys  ? 


Of  course  every  mother  is  apt  to  think  that  her 
Johnny  or  Jenny  is  nature's  highest  utterance. 
But  for  blind,  unreasoning  adoration,  commend 
me  to  a  fond  grandmamma. 

The  first  time  I  took  my  child  on  a  visit  to  my 
mother  in  dear  old  Brittany,  grandmamma  re- 
ceived compliments  enough  on  the  subject  of  the 
"  lovely  petite  blonde  "  to  turn  her  head.  But 
it  did  not  want  much  turning,  I  must  say.  One 
afternoon,  my  wife  was  sitting  with  Miss  Baby 
on  her  lap,  and  grandmamma,  after  devouring 
the  child  with  her  eyes  for  a  few  moments,  said 
to  us: 

"  You  are  two  very  sensible  parents.  Some 
people  are  so  absurd  about  their  babies  !  Take 
Madame  T.,  for  instance.  She  was  here  this 
morning,  and  really,  to  hear  her  talk,  one  would 


44  John  Bull,  Jr. 

think  that  child  of  hers  was  an  angel  of  beauty 
— that  there  never  was  such  another." 

"Well,  but,  grandmamma,"  said  my  wife, 
"you  know  yourself  that  you  are  forever  dis- 
coursing of  the  matchless  charms  of  our  baby  to 
your  friends." 

"  Ah  !  "  cried  the  dear  old  lady,  as  serious  as 
a  judge  ;  "  but  that's  quite  different  ;  in  our  case 
it's  all  true." 


If  you  ever  hope  to  find  the  British  school- 
boy at  fault,  your  life  will  be  a  series  of  disap- 
pointments. Judge  for  yourself. 

I  (once)  :  "  Well,  Brown,  you  bring  no  exer- 
cise this  morning.  How  is  that  ?" 

PROMISING  BRITON  :  "  Please,  sir,  you  said 
yesterday  that  we  were  to  do  the  lyth  exercise." 

I  (inquiringly) :  "  Well?" 

P.  B.  (looking  sad)  :  "  Please,  sir,  Jones  said 
to  me,  last  night,  that  it  was  the  i8th  exercise  we 
were  to  do." 

I  (surprised)  :  "  But,  my  dear  boy,  you  do  not 
bring  me  any  exercise  at  all." 

P.  B.  (looking  good)  :  "  Please,  sir,  I  was 
afraid  to  do  the  wrong  one." 

Dear,  dear  child  !  the  thought  of  doing  wrong 
but  once  was  too  much  for  him !  I  shall  always 
have  it  heavy  on  my  conscience  to  have  rewarded 


John  Bull,  Jr.  45 

this  boy's  love  of  what  is  right  by  calling  upon 
him  to  write  out  each  of  those  exercises  five 
times. 


That  thick-necked  boy,  whom  you  see  there 
on  the  front  row  aiming  at  looking  very  good, 
and  whom  his  schoolfellows  are  wicked  and  dis- 
respectful enough  to  surname  "  Potted  Angel," 
is  sad  and  sour.  His  eyes  are  half  open,  his 
tongue  seems  to  fill  his  mouth,  and  to  speak,  or 
rather  to  jerk  out  the  words,  he  has  to  let  it  hang 
out.  His  mouth  moves  sideways  like  that  of  a 
ruminant  ;  you  would  imagine  he  was  masticat- 
ing a  piece  of  tough  steak.  He  blushes,  and 
never  looks  at  you,  except  on  the  sly,  with  an 
uncomfortable  grin,  when  your  head  is  turned 
away.  It  seems  to  give  him  pain  to  swallow,  and 
you  would  think  he  was  suffering  from  some  in- 
ternal complaint. 

This,  perhaps,  can  be  explained.  The  con- 
science lies  just  over  the  stomach,  if  I  am  to 
trust  boys  when  they  say  they  put  their  hands  on 
their  conscience.  Let  this  conscience  be 
heavily  loaded,  and  there  you  have  the  explana- 
tion of  the  grumbling  ailment  that  disturbs  the 
boy  in  the  lower  regions  of  his  anatomy. 

To  be  good  is  all  right,  but  you  must  not  over- 
do it.  This  boy  is  beyond  competition,  a  stand- 
ing reproach,  an  insult  to  the  rest  of  the  class. 


46  John  Bull,  Jr. 

You  are  sorry  to  hear,  on  asking  him  what  he 
intends  to  be,  that  he  means  to  be  a  missionary. 
His  face  alone  will  be  worth  ,£500  a  year  in  the 
profession.  Thinking  that  I  have  prepared  this 
worthy  for  missionary  work,  I  feel,  when  asked 
what  I  think  of  missionaries,  like  the  jam- 
maker's  little  boy  who  is  offered  jam  and  declines, 
pleading  : 

"  No,  thanks — we  makes  it." 

I  have  great  respect  for  missionaries,  but  I 
have  always  strongly  objected  to  boys  who  make 
up  their  minds  to  be  missionaries  before  they  are 
twelve  years  old. 


Some  good,  straightforward  boys  are  wholly 
destitute  of  humor.  One  of  them  had  once  to 
put  into  French  the  following  sentence  of  Charles 
Dickens  :  "  Mr.  Squeers  had  but  one  eye,  and 
the  popular  prejudice  runs  in  favor  of  two." 
He  said  he  could  not  put  this  phrase  into 
French,  because  he  did  not  know  what  it  meant 
in  English. 

"  Surely,  sir,"  he  said  to  me,  "  it  is  not  a  prej- 
udice to  prefer  two  eyes  to  one." 

This  boy  was  wonderfully  good  at  facts,  and 
his  want  of  humor  did  not  prevent  him  from 
coming  out  of  Cambridge  senior  classic,  after 


John  Bull,  Jr.  47 

successfully  taking  his  B.A.   and  M.A.   in  the 
University  of  London. 

This  young  man,  I  hear,  is  also  going  to  be  a 
missionary.  The  news  goes  far  to  reconcile  me 
to  the  noble  army  of  John  Bull's  colonizing 
agents,  but  I  doubt  whether  the  heathen  will 
ever  get  much  entertainment  out  of  him. 


Some  boys  can  grasp  grammatical  facts  and 
succeed  in  writing  a  decent  piece  of  French; 
but,  through  want  of  literary  perception,  they 
will  give  you  a  sentence  that  will  make  you  feel 
proud  of  them  until  you  reach  the  end,  when, 
bang  !  the  last  word  will  have  the  effect  of  a 
terrible  bump  on  your  nose. 

A  boy  of  this  category  had  to  translate  this 
other  sentence  of  Dickens  :*  "  She  went  back 
to  her  own  room,  and  tried  to  prepare  herself 
for  bed.  But  who  could  sleep  ?  Sleep  !  "  f 

*  "  The  Old  Curiosity  Shop." 

f  Here  I  have  to  make  a  painful  confession.  I  have 
actually  acceded  to  a  request  from  my  American  publishers, 
men  wholly  destitute  of  humor,  to  supply  the  reader  with  a 
translation  of  the  few  French  sentences  used  in  this  little 
volume.  This  monument  of  my  weakness  will  be  found  at 
the  end. 


48  John  Bull,  Jr. 

His  translation  ran  thus  :  "  Elle  se  retira  dans 
sa  chambre,  et  fit  ses  preparatifs  pour  se  coucher. 
Mais  qui  aurait  pu  dormir?  Sotnmeil!" 

I  caught  that  boy  napping  one  day. 

"  Vous  dorrnez,  mon  ami  ? .  .  .  Sommeil,  eh  ? " 
I  cried. 

The  remark  was  enjoyed.  There  is  so  much 
charity  in  the  hearts  of  boys  ! 

Another  boy  had  to  translate  a  piece  of  Car- 
lyle's  "  French  Revolution  "  :  "  '  Their  heads 
shall  fall  within  a  fortnight,'  croaks  the  people's 

friend  (Marat),  clutching  his  tablets  to  write 

Charlotte  Corday  has  drawn  her  knife  from  the 
sheath  ;  plunges  it,  with  one  sure  stroke,  into 
the  writer's  heart." 

The  end  of  this  powerful  sentence  ran  thus  in 
the  translation  :  "  Charlotte  Corday  a  tire  son 
poignard  de  la  gaine,  et  d'une  main  sure,  elle  le 
plonge  dans  le  coeur  de  cdui  qui  ecrivait." 

When  I  remonstrated  with  the  dear  fellow,  he 
pulled  his  dictionary  out  of  his  desk,  and  tri- 
umphantly pointed  out  to  me  : 

"  WRITER  (substantive),  celui  qui  tcrit." 

And  all  the  time  his  look  seemed  to  say  : 

"  What  do  you  think  of  that  ?  You  may  be  a 
very  clever  man  ;  but  surely  you  do  not  mean  to 
say  that  you  know  better  than  a  dictionary  !  " 


John  Bull,  Jr.  49 

Oh,  the  French  dictionary,  that  treacherous 
friend  of  boys  ! 

The  lazy  ones  take  the  first  word  of  the  list, 
sometimes  the  figurative  pronunciation  given  in 
the  English-French  part. 

Result  :  "  /  have  a  key  " — "J'ai  un  ki." 

The  shrewd  ones  take  the  last  word,  to  make 
believe  they  went  through  the  whole  list. 

Result :  "A  chest  of  drawers  " — "  Une  poitrine 
de  calefotis." 

The  careless  ones  do  not  take  the  right  part  of 
speech  they  want. 

Result :  "  He  felt "— "//  feutra";  "He  left " 
— "II  gaucha" 

With  my  experience  of  certain  French  diction- 
aries published  in  England,  I  do  not  wonder  that 
English  boys  often  trust  in  Providence  for  the 
choice  of  words,  although  I  cannot  help  think- 
ing that  as  a  rule  they  are  most  unlucky. 

Very  few  boys  have  good  dictionaries  at  hand. 
I  know  that  Smith  and  Hamilton's  dictionary  (in 
two  volumes)  costs  twenty  shillings.  But  what 
is  twenty  shillings  to  be  helped  all  through  one's 
coaching  ?  About  the  price  of  a  good  lawn-ten- 
nis racket. 

I  have  seen  boys  show  me,  with  a  radiant  air, 
a  French  dictionary  they  had  bought  for  six- 
pence. 

They  thought  they  had  made  a  bargain. 

Oh,  free  trade  !     Oh,  the  cheapest  market ! 


50  John  Bnll,  Jr. 

Sixpence  for  that  dictionary  !     That  was  not 
very  expensive,  I  own — but  it  was  terribly  dear. 


When  an  English  boy  is  about  to  write  out 
his  French  exercise,  he  invariably  begins  by 
heading  the  copy 

"  FRENCH," 

written  with  his  best  hand,  on  the  first  line. 

This  is  to  avoid  any  misunderstanding  about 
the  language  he  is  going  to  use. 

I  have  often  felt  grateful  for  that  title. 

* 
*  * 

Children  are  very  great  at  titles  and  inscrip- 
tions. 

Give  them  a  little  penny  pocket-book,  and 
their  keen  sense  of  ownership  will  make  them 
go  straightway  and  write  their  name  and  address 
on  the  first  page.  When  this  is  done,  they  will 
entitle  the  book,  and  write  on  the  top  of  each 
page  :  "  Memorandum  Book." 

When  I  was  at  school,  we  French  boys  used 
to  draw,  on  the  back  of  the  cover  of  our  books, 
a  merry-Andrew  and  a  gibbet,  with  the  inscrip- 
tion : 


John  Bull,  Jr.  51 

"  Aspice  Pierrot  pendu, 
Quod  librum  n  a  pas  rendu. 
Si  librum  redidisset, 
Pierrot  pendu  non  fuisset." 

I  came  across  the  following  lines  on  some  En- 
glish boys'  books  : 

"  Don't  steal  this  book  for  fear  of  shame, 
For  here  you  see  the  owner's  name  ; 
Or,  when  you  die,  the  Lord  will  say  : 
'  Where  is  that  book  you  stole  away  ? '  " 


Boys'  minds  are  like  a  certain  place  not  men- 
tioned in  geographies  :  they  are  paved  with  good 
intentions.  Before  they  begin  their  work,  they 
choose  their  best  nib  (which  always  takes  some 
time).  This  done,  they  carefully  write  their 
name  and  the  title  of  the  exercise.  FRENCH 
looks  magnificent.  They  evidently  mean  to  do 
well.  The  first  sentence  is  generally  right  and 
well  written.  In  the  second  you  perceive  signs 
of  flagging  ;  it  then  gets  worse  and  worse  till  the 
end,  which  is  not  legible.  Judge  for  yourself, 
here  is  a  specimen.  It  collapses  with  a  blot  half 
licked  off. 

Master  H.  W.  S.'s  flourish  after  his  signature 
is  not,  as  you  see,  a  masterpiece  of  calligraphy  ; 


52  John  Bull,  Jr. 

but  it  is  not  intended  to  be  so.     It  is  simply  an 
overflow  of  relief  and  happiness  at  the  thought 
that  his  exercise  is  finished. 
Translate  the  flourish  by — 
"  Done  !  !  !  " 


H.  W.  S.  is  not  particularly  lucky  with  his 
genders.  Fortunately  for  him,  the  French  lan- 
guage possesses  no  neuter  nouns,  so  that  some- 
times he  hits  on  the  right  gender.  For  this  he 
asks  no  praise.  Providence  alone  is  to  be 
thanked  for  it. 

Once  he  had  to  translate:  "  His  conduct  was 
good."  He  first  put  sa  conduite.  After  this 
effort  in  the  right  direction,  his  conscience  was 
satisfied,  and  he  added,  6tait  ban.  Why  ?  Be- 
cause an  adjective  is  longer  in  the  feminine  than 
in  the  masculine,  and  with  him  and  his  like  the 
former  gender  stands  very  little  chance. 


I  remember  two  very  strange  boys.  They  were 
not  typical,  I  am  happy  to  say. 

When  the  first  of  them  was  on,  his  ears  would 
flap  and  go  on  flapping  like  the  gills  of  a  fish, 
till  he  had  either  answered  the  question  or  given 
up  trying,  when  they  would  lie  at  rest  flat  against 


^jfe'  fkc  me  nil/.  *2. 

m4m><r 


John  Bull,  Jr.  53 

his  head.  If  I  said  to  him  sharply  :  "  Well,  my 
boy,  speak  up  ;  I  can't  hear,"  his  ears  would 
start  flapping  more  vigorously  than  ever.  Some- 
times he  would  turn  his  eyes  right  over,  to  see  if 
he  could  not  find  the  answer  written  somewhere 
inside  his  head.  This  boy  could  set  the  whole 
of  his  scalp  in  motion,  bring  his  hair  right  down 
to  his  eyes,  and  send  it  back  again  without  the 
least  difficulty.  These  performances  were  simply 
wonderful.  The  boys  used  to  watch  him  with 
an  interest  that  never  flagged,  and  more  than 
once  I  was  near  losing  my  countenance. 

One  day  this  poor  lad  fell  in  the  playground, 
and  cut  his  head  open.  We  were  all  anxious  to 
ascertain  what  it  was  he  had  inside  his  head  that 
he  always  wanted  to  get  at.  The  doctor  found 
nothing  remarkable  in  it. 

The  other  boy  was  a  fearful  stammerer.  The 
manner  in  which  he  managed  to  get  help  for  his 
speech  is  worth  relating.  Whenever  he  had  to 
read  a  piece  of  French  aloud,  he  would  utter  the 
letter  "  F  "  before  each  French  word,  and  they 
would  positively  come  out  easily.  The  letter 
"  F"  being  the  most  difficult  letter  for  stammer- 
ers to  pronounce,  I  always  imagined  that  he 
thought  he  would  be  all  right  with  any  sound,  if 
he  could  only  say  "  F  "  first. 

He  was  successful. 


54  John  Bull,  Jr. 

A  boy  with  whom  you  find  it  somewhat 
difficult  to  get  on  is  the  diffident  one  who  always 
believes  that  the  question  you  ask  him  is  a 
"catch."  He  is  constantly  on  guard,  and  sur- 
rounds the  easiest  question  with  inextricable 
difficulties.  It  is  his  misfortune  to  know  that 
rules  have  exceptions,  and  he  never  suspects  that 
it  would  enter  your  head  to  ask  him  for  the  illus- 
tration of  a  general  rule. 

He  knows,  for  instance,  that  nouns  ending  in 
al  form  their  plural  by  changing  al  into  aux  :  but 
if  you  ask  him  for  the  plural  of  general,  he  will 
hesitate  a  long  while,  and  eventually  answer  you, 
generals. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say,  my  boy,  that  you  do  not 
know  how  to  form  the  plural  of  nouns  in  al?" 

"  Yes,  sir,  but  I  thought  general  was  an  excep- 
tion." 


I  pass  over  the  wit  who,  being  asked   for  the 
plural  of  egal,  answered,  "two  gals." 


A  diverting  little  boy  in  the  class-room  is  the 
one  who  always  thinks  "  he  has  got  it.  "  It  mat- 
ters little  to  him  what  the  question  is,  he  has  not 
heard  the  end  of  it  when  he  lifts  his  hand  to  let 
you  know  he  is  ready. 


John  Bull,  Jr.  55 

"What  is  the  future  of  savoir?  " 

"  Please,  sir,  I  know  :  je  savoirat." 

"Sit  down,  you  ignoramus." 

And  he  resumes  his  seat  to  sulk  until  you 
give  him  another  chance.  He  wonders  how  it  is 
you  don't  like  his  answers.  His  manner  is  gen- 
erally affable  ;  you  see  at  once  in  him  a  mother's 
pet  who  is  much  admired  at  home,  and  thinks  he 
is  not  properly  appreciated  at  school. 

Mother's  pets  are  to  be  recognized  at  a  glance. 
They  are  always  clean  and  tidy  in  face  and  per- 
son. Unfortunately  they  often  part  their  hair  in 
the  middle. 


Such  is  not  the  testimonial  that  can  be  given 
to  young  H.  He  spends  an  hour  and  a  pint  of 
ink  over  every  exercise. 

He  writes  very  badly. 

To  obtain  a  firm  hold  of  his  pen,  he  grasps  the 
nib  with  the  ends  of  his  five  fingers.  I  some- 
times think  he  must  use  his  two  hands  at  once. 
He  plunges  the  whole  into  the  inkstand  every 
second  or  two,  and  withdraws  it  dripping.  He 
is  smeared  with  ink  all  over  ;  he  rubs  his  hands 
in  it,  he  licks  it,  he  loves  it,  he  sniffs  it,  he  revels 
in  it.  He  wishes  he  could  drink  it,  and  the  ink- 
stands were  wide  enDugh  for  him  to  get  his  fist 
right  into  it. 


$6  John  Bull,  Jr. 

This  boy  is  a  most  clever  little  fellow.  When 
you  can  see  his  eyes,  they  are  sparkling  with 
mischief  and  intelligence.  A  beautiful,  dirty 
face  ;  a  lovely  boy,  though  an  "  unwashed." 


A  somewhat  objectionable  boy,  although  he  is 
not  responsible  for  his  shortcomings,  is  the  one 
who  has  been  educated  at  home  up  to  twelve  or 
fourteen  years  of  age. 

Before  you  can  garnish  his  brain,  you  have  to 
sweep  it.  You  have  to  replace  the  French  of  his 
nursery  governess — who  has  acquired  it  on  the 
Continong — by  a  serious  knowledge  of  avoir  and 
tfre. 

He  comes  to  school  with  a  testimonial  from 
his  mother,  who  is  a  good  French  scholar,  to  the 
effect  that  he  speaks  French  fluently. 

You  ask  him  for  the  French  of 
"  //  is  twelve  o'clock,''1 

and  he  answers  with  assurance  : 
"  Cest  douze  heures" 

You  ask  him  next  for  the  French  of 
"  Hoiu  do  you  do?  " 

and  he  tells  you  : 

"  Comment  ca  va-t-il ?  " 

You  call  upon  him  to  spell  it,  and  he  has  no 
hesitation  about  it  :  Comment  savaty?" 

You  then  test  his  knowledge  of  grammar  by 


John  Bull,  Jr.  57 

asking  him  the  future  of  vouloir,  and  you  im- 
mediately obtain  :  "  Je  voulerai." 

You  tell  him  that  his  French  is  very  shaky, 
and  you  decide  on  putting  him  with  the  begin- 
ners. 

The  following  day  you  find  a  letter  awaiting 
you  at  school.  It  is  from  his  indignant  mother. 
She  informs  you  that  she  fears  her  little  boy  will 
not  learn  much  in  the  class  you  have  put  him  in. 
He  ought  to  be  in  one  of  the  advanced  classes. 
He  has  read  Voltaire  *  and  can  speak  French. 

She  knows  he  can,  she  heard  him  at  Boulogne, 
and  he  got  on  very  well.  The  natives  there  had 
no  secrets  for  him  ;  he  could  understand  all  they 
said. 

You  feel  it  to  be  your  duty  not  to  comply  with 
the  lady's  wishes,  and  you  have  made  a  bitter 
enemy  to  yourself  and  the  school. 

This  boy  never  takes  for  granted  the  truth  of 
the  statements  you  make  in  the  class-room. 
What  you  say  may  be  all  right  ;  but  when  he 
gets  home  he  will  ask  his  mamma  if  it  is  all  true. 

He  is  fond  of  arguing,  and  has  no  sympathy 
with  his  teacher.  He  tries  to  find  him  at  fault. 

A  favorite  remark  of  his  is  this  : 

"  Please,  sir,  you  said  the  other  day  that  so- 
and-so  was  right.  Why  do  you  mark  a  mistake 
in  my  exercise  to-day  ? " 

*  Poor  little  chap  ! 


58  John  Bull,  Jr. 

You  explain  to  him  why  he  is  wrong,  and  he 
goes  back  to  his  seat  grumbling.  He  sees  he  is 
wrong  ;  but  he  is  not  cured.  He  hopes  to  be 
more  lucky  next  time. 

When  you  meet  his  mother,  she  asks  you  what 
you  think  of  the  boy. 

"  A  very  nice  boy  indeed,"  you  say  ;  "  only  I 
sometimes  wish  he  had  more  confidence  in  me  ; 
he  is  rather  fond  of  arguing." 

"T)h  !  "  she  exclaims,  "  I  know  that.  Charley 
will  never  accept  a  statement  before  he  has  dis- 
cussed it  and  thoroughly  investigated  it." 


As  a  set-off  for  Charley,  there  is  the  boy  who 
has  a  blind  confidence  in  you.  All  you  say  is 
gospel  to  him,  and  if  you  were  to  tell  him  that 
the  French  word  voisin  is  pronounced  kramshaka, 
he  would  unhesitatingly  say  kramshaka. 

Nothing  astonishes  him  ;  he  has  taken  for  his 
motto  the  Nil  admirari  of  Horace.  He  would 
see  three  circumflex  accents  on  the  top  of  a  vowel 
without  lifting  his  eyebrows.  He  is  none  of  the 
inquiring  and  investigating  sort. 


Another  specimen  of  the  Charley  type  is  the 
one  who  has  been  coached  for  the  public  school 


John  Bull,  Jr.  59 

in  a  Preparatory  School  for  the  Sons  of  Gentle- 
men, kept  by  ladies. 

This  boy  has  always  been  well  treated.  He  is 
fat,  rubicund,  and  unruly.  His  linen  is  irre- 
proachable. The  ladies  told  him  he  was  good- 
looking,  and  his  hair,  which  he  parts  into  two 
ailes  de  pigeon,  is  the  subject  of  his  incessant 
care. 

He  does  not  become  "a  man  "  until  his  com- 
rades have  bullied  him  into  a  good  game  of 
Rugby  football. 


On  the  last  bench,  right  in  the  corner,  you 
can  see  young  Bully.  He  does  not  seek  after 
light,  he  is  not  an  ambitious  boy,  and  the  less 
notice  you  take  of  him  the  better  he  is  pleased. 
His  father  says  he  is  a  backward  boy.  Bully  is 
older  and  taller  than  the  rest  of  the  class.  For 
form's  sake  you  are  obliged  to  request  him  to 
bring  his  work,  but  you  have  long  ago  given  up 
all  hope  of  ever  teaching  him  any  thing.  He  is 
quiet  and  unpretending  in  class,  and  too  sleepy 
to  be  up  to  mischief.  He  trusts  that  if  he  does 
not  disturb  your  peace  you  will  not  disturb  his. 
When  a  little  boy  gives  you  a  good  answer,  it 
arouses  his  scorn,  and  he  not  uncommonly  throws 
at  him  a  little  smile  of  congratulation.  If  you 


60  John  Bull,  Jr. 

were  not  a  good  disciplinarian,  he  would  go  and 
give  him  a  pat  on  the  back,  but  this  he  dares  not 
do. 

When  you  bid  him  stand  up  and  answer  a 
question,  he  begins  by  leaning  on  his  desk.  Then 
he  gently  lifts  his  hinder  part,  and  by  slow  de- 
grees succeeds  in  getting  up  the  whole  mass.  He 
hopes  that  by  this  time  you  will  have  passed  him 
and  asked  another  boy  to  give  you  the  answer. 
He  is  not  jealous,  and  will  bear  no  ill-will  to  the 
boy  who  gives  you  a  satisfactory  reply. 

If  you  insist  on  his  standing  up  and  giving  sign 
of  life,  he  frowns,  loosens  his  collar,  which  seems 
to  choke  him,  looks  at  the  floor,  then  at  the  ceil- 
ing, then  at  you.  Being  unable  to  utter  a  sound, 
he  frowns  more,  to  make  you  believe  that  he  is 
very  dissatisfied  with  himself. 

"  I  know  the  answer,"  he  seems  to  say  ;  "  how 
funny,  I  can't  recollect  it  just  now." 

As  you  cannot  waste  any  more  time  about  him, 
you  pass  him  ;  a  ray  of  satisfaction  flashes  over 
his  face,  and  he  resumes  his  corner  hoping  for 
peace. 

The  little  boys  dare  not  laugh  at  him,  for  he  is 
the  terror  of  the  playground,  where  he  takes  his 
revenge  of  the  class-room. 

His  favorite  pastime  in  the  playground  is  to 
teach  little  boys  how  to  play  marbles.  They 
bring  the  marbles,  he  brings  his  experience. 
When  the  bell  rings  to  call  the  boys  to  the  class- 


John  Bull,  Jr.  61 

rooms,  he  has  got  many  marbles,  the  boys  a  little 
experience. 

*  * 

One  of  my  pet  aversions  is  the  young  boy  who 
arrays  *  himself  in  stand-up  collars  and  white 
merino  cravats. 

George  Eliot,  I  believe,  says  somewhere  that 
there  never  was  brain  inside  a  red-haired  head. 
I  think  she  was  mistaken.  I  have  known  very 
clever  boys  with  red  hair. 

But  what  I  am  positive  about  is  that  there  is  no 
brain  on  the  top  of  boys  ornamented  with  stand- 
up  collars. 

Young  Bully  wears  them.  He  comes  to  school 
with  his  stick,  and  whenever  you  want  a  match 
to  light  the  gas  with  he  can  always  supply  you, 
and  feels  happy  he  is  able  for  once  to  oblige 
you. 

*  * 

In  some  boys  I  have  often  deplored  the  presence 
of  two  ears.  What  you  impart  through  one  im- 
mediately escapes  through  the  other.  Explain 
to  them  a  rule  once  a  week,  they  will  always  en- 
joy hearing  it  again.  It  will  always  be  new  to 
them.  Their  lives  will  ever  be  a  series  of  enchant- 
ments and  surprises. 

*  Being  a  little  bit  of  a  philologist,  I  assume  this  verb 
comes  from  the  common  (very  common)  noan,  'Arry. 


62  John  Bull,  Jr. 

You  must  persevere,  and  repeat  things  to  them 
a  hundred  times,  if  ninety-nine  will  not  do.  Who 
knows  there  is  not  a  John  Wesley  among  them  ? 

"  I  remember,"  once  said  this  celebrated  di- 
vine, "  hearing  my  father  say  to  my  mother:'  How 
could  you  have  the  patience  to  tell  that  blockhead 
the  same  thing  twenty  times  over?'  '  Why,'  said 
she,  '  if  I  had  told  him  only  nineteen  times,  I 
should  have  lost  all  my  labor.'  " 


I  am  not  sure  that  the  boy  with  only  one 
ear  is  not  still  more  tiresome.  He  always  turns 
his  deaf  ear  to  you,  and  makes  his  little  infirmity 
pay.  "  He  is  afraid  he  did  not  quite  hear  you, 
when  you  set  the  work  yesterday."  For  my  part. 
I  met  the  difficulty  by  having  desks  placed  each 
side  of  my  chair.  On  my  left  I  had  the  boys 
who  had  good  right  ears  ;  on  my  right,  those  who 
had  good  left  ones. 

I  can  not  say  I  ever  saw  many  signs  of  grati- 
tude in  boys  for  this  solicitude  of  mine  in  their 
behalf. 


At  dictation  time  the  two-eared  boy  is  terri- 
ble, p.nd  you  need  all  the  self-control  you  have 
acquired  on  the  English  shores  to  keep  yo:ir 
head  cool. 


John  Bull,  Jr.  ^3 

Before  beginning,  you  warn  him  that  a  mute 
ey  or  an  s,  placed  at  the  end  of  a  vowel,  gives  a 
long  sound  to  that  vowel,  that  te  is  long  in  jolie, 
and  /  is  short  in  joli;  that  ais  is  long  in  je  serais, 
and  at  is  short  in  je  serai. 

Satisfied  that  he  is  well  prepared,  you  start 
with  your  best  voice  : 


The  boy  looks  at  you.  Is  he  to  write/1?  serais 
or/<?  serai  ? 

To  settle  his  undecided  mind,  you  repeat  : 

"Je  serais" 

and  you  may  lay  great  emphasis  on  ats,  bleating 
for  thirty  seconds  like  a  sheep  in  distress. 

He  writes  something  down  at  last.  You  go 
and  see  the  result  of  your  efforts.  He  has  writ- 
ten 

"Je  serai" 

Drat  the  boy  ! 

Next  time  you  dictate  a  word  ending  in  aist 
he  won't  be  caught  again. 

He  leaves  a  blank  or  makes  a  blot. 


You  must  never  take  it  for  granted  that  you 
have  given  this  boy  all  the  explanations  he  re- 
quires to  get  on  with  his  work.  You  will  always 


64  John  Bull,  Jr. 

find  that  there  is  something  you  have  omitted 
to  tell  him. 

He  is  not  hopelessly  stupid,  he  personifies  the 
vis  inertia  ;  he  is  indifferent,  and  takes  but  one 
step  at  a  time. 

He  will  tell  you  he  did  not  know  that  there 
were  notes  at  the  end  of  his  French  text-books. 
When  he  knows  that  there  are  such  notes,  he 
will  inform  you  next  time  that  you  did  not  tell 
him  he  was  to  look  at  them. 

He  sees  things,  but  at  first  he  does  not  know 
what  they  are  for  unless  they  are  labelled,  and 
he  will  ignore  the  use  of  a  chair  if  you  do  not 
point  out  the  flat  part  of  this  piece  of  furniture, 
or  better  still,  touch  it,  saying,  "  Chair — to  sit 
upon." 

The  following  are  bits  of  conversation  you  will 
have  with  him  in  the  class-room  : 

"  How  is  it  you  have  no  copy  to  give  me  ?  " 

"  I  thought  we  only  had  to  prepare  the  piece." 

Of  course  you  know  what  it  means  when  a 
boy  tells  you  he  has  "  prepared  "  his  work,  but 
has  not  written  it  down.  So  you  tell  him  he  is 
to  bring  a  copy  next  time.  He  does,  for  he  is 
most  anxious  to  do  as  he  is  told. 

When  you  ask  him  to  give  you  the  translation 
of  the  piece  viva  voce,  he  tells  you  : 

"  Please,  sir,  you  did  not  tell  us  we  were  to 
learn  the  piece." 

"  But,  my  boy,  don't  you  understand  that  you 


John  Bull,  Jr.  65 

are  doing  a  piece  of  French  twice  a  week  in 
order  to  learn  the  language  ? " 

He  never  thought  of  that.  He  had  to  write 
out  the  translation  of  a  piece  of  French,  and  he 
has  done  it.  He  did  not  know  he  had  to  draw 
such  bewildering  conclusions  as  you  have  just 
mentioned. 

He  does  as  he  is  told,  and  he  marvels  you  do 
not  consider  him  a  model  of  a  boy. 

If  he  were  placed  at  the  door  of  the  reading- 
room  of  the  British  Museum,  with  orders  to  in- 
form people  that  they  must  take  their  umbrellas 
or  sticks  to  the  cloak-room,  he  would  carry  out 
the  intentions  of  the  librarians  with  a  vengeance. 

"  Take  your  stick  or  your  umbrella  to  the 
cloak-room,"  he  would  say  to  the  first  person 
presenting  himself  at  the  door. 

"  But  I  have  not  got  either,"  might  reply  the 
visitor. 

"  That's  no  business  of  mine  ;  go  and  fetch 
them,"  he  would  naturally  suggest. 

He  can  grasp  but  one  idea  at  a  time,  and  this 
one  idea  does  not  lead  to  another  in  his  mind. 
There  it  remains  like  the  buried  talent. 


Master  Whirligig  is  a  light-headed  boy.  It 
requires  very  little  to  entertain  him.  The  fall- 
ing of  a  book,  a  cough,  a  sneeze,  an  organ  in 


66  John  Bull,  Jr. 

the  street,  will  send  him  into  fits  of  hilarity  be- 
hind his  pocket-handkerchief,  and  when  the 
school  breaks  up  for  the  Midsummer  holidays, 
he  will  be  able  to  tell  you  the  exact  number  of 
flies  that  passed  through  the  class-room  during 
the  term. 

He  is  never  still  for  a  moment.  Always  on 
the  look-out  for  fresh  events,  he  is  the  nearest 
approach  to  perpetual  motion  yet  discovered. 

The  cracks  in  this  boy's  cranium  may  be  ex- 
plained physiologically.  Matter  subjected  to 
constant  motion  gets  heated,  as  we  all  know. 
Now  young  Whirligig's  skull  is  but  scantily  fur- 
nished with  brain  matter,  and  it  would  be  wise 
of  him  to  keep  it  still.  This  he  seems  to  be  in- 
capable of  doing.  He  is  for  ever  jerking  and 
shaking  it,  churning  the  contents  in  fact.  The 
churn  heated,  hot  vapors  are  generated  ;  they 
expand,  the  pressure  is  too  great,  they  must  es- 
cape— they  force  an  outlet — hence  the  cracks. — 
Q.E.D. 


If  you  want  to  see  the  good  average  English 
schoolboy  in  all  his  glory,  make  him  write  out  a 
rule  of  French  grammar,  and  tell  him  to  illus- 
trate it  with  an  example. 

Nine  times  out  of  ten  his  example  will  illus- 
trate the  contrary  to  the  rule. 

He  has  heard  over  and  over  again,  for  instance, 


John  Bull,  Jr.  67 

that  a  French  past  participle,  conjugated  with 
the  auxiliary  avoir,  sometimes  agrees  with  its 
direct  object  and  sometimes  does  not.  This  he 
thinks  very  hard  upon  him.  Funny  temper 
these  past  participles  have  !  You  never  know 
when  they  will  agree.  It  is  not  fair,  now,  is  it? 
By  consulting  his  grammar,  he  would  be  enabled 
to  satisfy  his  master.  But  he  does  not  do  that. 
He  trusts  to  his  luck,  and  has  a  shot.  After  all, 
his  chance  is  50  per  cent.  He  generally  fails  to 
hit. 

Is  he  not  a  most  unlucky  little  creature  ? 

Ask  this  boy  to  give  you  the  French  for  "this 
woman  is  good,"  he  will  answer  you  :  "Bonne est 
eette  femme"  He  has  heard  that  ban  was  one  of 
those  few  adjectives  that  have  to  be  placed  be- 
fore the  noun,  and  that  is  very  unfair  to  him, 
isn't  it  ? 


If  you  set  an  exercise  to  English  boys,  to  be 
written  out  on  the  spot,  they  all  set  off  quickly, 
the  question  being,  as  they  look  at  one  another  : 

"Who  shall  have  finished  first  ?" 

This  I  hold  to  'be  due  to  the  influence  of 
athletics. 

"  Please,  sir,  I've  done  ! "  will  exclaim  the 
winner  triumphantly,  as  he  looks  at  the  rest  of 
the  class  still  busy  scratching  their  paper. 


68  John  Bull,  Jr. 

You  generally  like  to  know  what  boys  intend 
to  be,  in  order  to  direct  your  attention  more 
specially  to  the  subjects  they  will  require  to  be 
grounded  in  for  such  or  such  an  examination. 

Most  boys  from  twelve  to  fourteen  years  old 
will  tell  you  "  they  do  not  know,"  when  you  ask 
them  what  they  will  be.  Many  of  them  are 
undecided,  many  indifferent  ;  some  are  shy,  and 
afraid  you  will  think  it  conceited  of  them  to 
believe  they  are  fit  to  be  one  day  doctors, 
officers,  barristers,  clergymen,  etc. 

A  few  answer  <(  I  don't  know,"  on  the  tune  of 
"  What  is  that  to  you  ? " 

As  it  is  always  impolitic  to  take  more  interest 
in  people  than  they  do  themselves,  you  do  not 
insist. 

Once  I  asked  a  nice  and  clever  little  boy  what 
he  wanted  to  be. 

This  little  boy's  papa  was  at  the  time  enjoy- 
ing the  well-salaried  far  niente  of  a  chaplaincy 
attached  to  an  old  philanthropical  institution 
that  had  not  had  any  inmates  for  many  years 
past. 

"  Please,  sir,  I  want  to  be  like  papa,"  he 
answered,  ingenuously. 


s 

My  young  friend  T.  had  no  taste  for  languages, 
except,  perhaps,  bad  language,  if  I  am  to  believe 


John  Bull,  Jr.  69 

certain  rumors  of  a  punishment  inflicted  upon 
him  by  the  head-master  not  long  ago. 

He  prepares  for  the  army,  but  I  doubt  whether 
he  will  succeed  in  entering  it,  unless  he  enlists. 
I  regret  it  for  her  Majesty's  sake,  for  he  would 
make  a  capital  soldier.  He  is  a  first-rate  athlete, 
resolute,  strong,  and  fearless.  He  would  never 
aim  at  becoming  a  field-marshal,  and  I  hold  that 
his  qualities  ought  to  weigh  in  an  examination 
for  the  army  as  much  as  a  little  Latin  and 
Greek. 

I  never  heard  of  great  generals  being  particu- 
larly good  at  Latin,  except  Julius  Caesar,  who 
wrote  his  Commentaries  on  the  Gallic  Wars  in 
that  language,  and  without  a  dictionary,  they 
say. 

My  young  friend  is  the  kind  of  boy  who,  in 
the  army,  would  be  sure  to  render  great  service 
to  his  country;  for,  whether  he  killed  England's 
enemy  or  England's  enemy  killed  him,  it  would 
eventually  be  for  the  good  of  England. 


Ah  !  now,  who  is  that  square-headed  boy,  sitting 
on  the  second  form  near  the  window  ?  He  looks 
dull ;  he  does  not  join  in  the  games,  and  seldom 
speaks  to  a  school-fellow.  He  comes  to  school 
on  business,  to  get  as  much  as  he  can  for  his 
money. 


70  John  Bull,  Jr. 

He  is  not  brilliant,  but  steady-going ;  he  is 
improving  slowly  but  surely.  He  goes  on  his 
jog-trot  way,  and  always  succeeds  in  being  placed 
among  the  first  twelve  boys  of  the  class.  He  is 
what  is  called  a  "respectable  person." 

He  never  smiles,  and  you  would  think  he  had 
on  his  shoulders  the  responsibility  of  the  man- 
agement of  the  London  and  Westminster  Bank. 

His  books  are  carefully  covered  in  brown 
paper  or  American  cloth.  He  writes  rough 
copies  on  the  backs  of  old  exercises,  and  wipes 
his  pen  when  he  has  finished  his  work.  He  buys 
his  books  second-hand  in  Holywell  Street,* 
and  when  he  has  finished  with  them  they  have 
the  same  market  value  as  when  he  bought 
them. 

He  lends  old  nibs  and  half-sheets  of  paper, 
and  requires  the  borrower  to  give  him  back  new 
nibs  and  foolscap  sheets. 

He  studies  French  with  all  the  energy  he  is 
capable  of,  because  his  father  has  told  him  that, 
with  a  good  knowledge  of  French,  he  will  com- 
mand a  good  salary  in  the  City. 

You  ask  him  what  he  will  be,  and  he  answers 
you  : 

"  In  business." 

This  boy  will  be  a  successful  man — a  lord- 
mayor,  perhaps. 

*  A  street  in  London  where  Jews  sell  second-hand  books. 


John  Bull,  Jr.  71 

I  can  not  take  leave  of  the  class-room  without 
mentioning  the  boy  who  is  proud  of  his  name. 
'What  is  your  name,  my  boy  ?  " 
'Algernon  Cadwaladr  Smyth." 
'Oh!  your  name  is  Smith,  is  it?" 
'  No,  sir  ;  my  name  is  Cadwaladr  Smyth." 
'You  spell  your  name  S-m-i-t-h,  don't  you?" 
'  No,    sir ;    S-m-y-t-h,"    he    answers,    almost 
indignantly. 

Dear  boy  !  he  is  as  proud  of  thej  of  his  name 
as  a  Howard  is  of  his  ancestors — although  I  am 
not  quite  sure  the  Howards  ought  to  be  very 
proud  of  their  name,  seeing  that  it  is  but  a  cor- 
ruption of  Hog-ward. 

I  always  thought  it  was  somewhat  hard  on  a 
boy  to  have  to  go  through  life  labeled  Cadwaladr; 
but,  as  I  have  remarked  elsewhere,  in  En- 
gland there  is  nothing  to  prevent  parents  from 
dubbing  their  offsprings  Bayard,  Bertrand  du 
Guesclin — or,  for  that  matter,  Nebuchadnezzar. 


72  John  Bull,  Jr. 


VI. 


FRENCH  AS  SHE  is  TRADUCED. — MORE  GRUMBLING. — 
"LA  CRITIQUE"  is  NOT  THE  CRITIC'S  WIFE. — BOSSUET'S 
PROSE  AND  HOW  IT  READS  IN  ENGLISH. — NOTHING 
IMPROVES  BY  TRANSLATION  EXCEPT  A  BISHOP. — A 
FEW  FRENCH  "  HOWLERS."  —  VALUABLE  HINTS  ON 
TRANSLATING  UNSEEN  PASSAGES. 

ENGLISH  boys  have  invented  a  special  kind  of 
English  language  for  French  translation. 

It  is  not  the  English  they  use  with  their  clas- 
sical and  other  masters ;  it  is  not  the  English 
they  use  at  home  with  their  parents,  or  at  school 
with  their  comrades  ;  it  is  a  special  article  kept 
for  the  sole  benefit  of  their  French  masters. 

The  good  genus  boy  will  translate  oiti,  man 
fire,  by  "yes,  my  father,"  as  if  it  were  possible 
for  him  to  forget  that  he  calls  his  papa  father, 
and  not  my  father,  when  he  addresses  him. 

He  very  seldom  reads  over  his  translation  to 
ascertain  that  it  reads  like  English  ;  but  when 
he  does,  and  is  not  perfectly  satisfied  with  the 
result,  he  lays  the  blame  on  the  French  original. 
After  all,  it  is  not  his  fault  if  there  is  no  sense  in 
the  French,  and  he  brings  a  certain  number  of 


John  Bull,  Jr.  73 

English  dictionary  words  placed  one  after  the 
other,  the  whole  entitled  FRENCH. 

Of  course  he  can  not  call  it  ENGLISH,  and 
he  dares  not  call  it  NONSENSE. 

He  calls  it  French,  and  relieves  his  conscience. 


It  will  take  boys  long  to  understand  that  la 
trompette,  la  me"decine,  la  marine,  la  statuaire,  are 
not  respectively  the  wives  of  le  trompette,  le 
me'decin,  le  marin,  le  statuaire. 

An  honest  little  boy  once  translated  "  La 
critique  doit  etre  bonne  fille  "  by  "  The  critic's  wife 
ought  to  be  a  good  girl." 

Poor  little  fellow  !  it  is  most  probable  that  no 
dictionary  within  his  reach  would  have  explained 
to  him  that  the  expression  bonne  fille  meant 
"good-humored." 


O  Bossuet,  veil  thy  face! 

The  finest  piece  of  French  prose  in  existence  is 
undoubtedly  the  following  sentence,  taken  from 
Bossuet's  funeral  oration  on  the  Great  Conde  : 

"  Restait  cette  redou table  infanterie  de  farmee 
d1  Espagne,  dont  les  gros  bataillons  serre"s,  semblables 
a  autant  de  tours,  mats  a  des  tours  qui  sauraient 
re"parer  leurs  brtches,  demeuraient  inebranlables  au 


74  John  Hull,  Jr. 

milieu  de  tout  le  reste  en  dtroute,  et  lanfaicnt  des 
feux  de  toutes  parts." 

This  reads  like  a  chant  of  Homer,  does  it 
not  ?  It  reads  quite  differently  in  boys'  transla- 
tions, I  assure  you,  when  you  come  to  "  towers 
that  would  be  able  to  mend  their  breaches." 

This  confirms  you  in  your  belief  that  nothing 
improves  by  translation — except  a  bishop. 


From  my  little  collection  of  what  is  called  in 
the  scholastic  profession  "  Howlers,"  I  extract 
the  following,  with  my  apologies  to  their  perpe- 
trators. 


La  fille  de  feu  ma  bonne  et  estime"e  cousine  est 
toujours  la  bienvenue,  ' '  My  good  and  esteemed 
cousin,  the  daughter  of  fire,  is  always  welcome." 


Mon  frlre  a  tort  et  ma  soenr  a  raison,  "My 
brother  has  some  tart  and  my  sister  has  some 
raisins." 


Elle partit  dans  la  matinte  du  lendemain,  "  She 


John  Bull,  Jr.  75 

took  part  in  the  morning  performance  of 
legerdemain." 

This  is  a  specimen  of  German geist  perpetrated 
by  a  candidate  to  our  scholarships,  and  a  young 
subject  of  his  Venerable  Majesty  Emperor 
William. 

Honor  to  whom  honor  is  due. 


When  I  said  that  boys  do  not  look  at  the  notes 
given  at  the  end  of  their  text-books,  it  was  noth- 
ing short  of  a  libel,  as  two  cases  following  will 
prove. 

*  * 

Diable  !  c'esf  qu'il  est  capricieux,  le  bonhomme  ! 

A  boy  looked  at  a  note  on  this  phrase,  and 
found  :  "  capricieux,  akin  to  Latin  capra  (a  goat)." 
Next  day,  he  brought  his  translation,  which  ran 
thus  : 

"  The  good  man  is  devilishly  like  a  goat." 


The  next  two  "  howlers  "  were  indulged  in  by 
my  boys,  as  we  were  reading  Jules  Sandeau's 
Mademoiselle  de  la  Seiglttre. 

The  Baroness  de  Vaubert  says  to  the  Marquis 
de  la  Seigliere  :  "  Calmez-vous." 


76  John  Bull,  Jr. 

A  boy  having  translated  this  by  "  Calm  your- 
self," I  observed  to  him  : 

"Couldn't  you  give  me  something  more 
colloquial  ?  " 

Boy,  after  a  moment's  reflection  : 

"  Keep  your  hair  on,  old  man." 


Je  laisse  Renaud  dans  les  jardins  d'Armide, 
"  I  leave  this  fox  in  the  gardens  of  Armida,"  and, 
between  brackets,  the  following  explanatory 
statement  : 

("  Jerusalem  delivered  Tasso  in  the  hands  o£ 
an  enchantress  named  Armida.")* 


Chaque  dge  a  ses  plaisirs  was  translated  by  a 
nice  little  boy,  "  Every  one  grows  old  for  his 
preserves.") 

(Evidently  written  after  a  surfeit  of  jam.) 


The  vagaries  of  my  young  friends  are  thrown 

*  I  reproduce  the  note  which  had  "  helped  "  the  boy  : 
["  Kenand  dans  les  jardins   d 'Armida"   the  enchanted 
guldens   of  Armida     ("  Jerusalem     Delivered,"      7'asso), 
jlgutaiivffy,  in  the  hands  of  an  enchantress.} 


John  Bull,  Jr.  77 

into  the  shade  by  some  achievements  of  profes- 
sional translators  which  I  have  come  across  in 
America.  A  French  master  may  occasionally 
enjoy  the  drolleries  that  a  magnificent  disdain 
for  dictionary  trammels  and  a  violent  yearning 
towards  the  play-ground  will  betray  his  pupil 
into  ;  but  I  imagine  that  a  publisher,  who  pays 
in  hard  cash  for  the  faithful  translation  of  a 
French  book,  can  scarcely  be  pleased  to  find 
that  the  work  has  been  interlarded  with  mirth- 
provoking  blunders  thrown  in  gratis. 
k  I  extract  the  two  following  examples  of 
"  French  as  she  is  traduced  "  from  the  transla- 
tion of  one  of  my  books  that  the  American  pirates 
did  me  the  honor  to  publish  : 

Les  exploits  d"  Hercule  sont  de  la  Saint  Jean 
aupres  de  ....,"  The  exploits  of  Hercules  are 
but  of  the  St.  John  order  compared  to " 

Monsieur,  ne  vous  retournes  pas,  "  Sir,  do  not 
return  yourself." 


But  to  return  to  John  Bull,  junior. 

I  pass  young  worthies  who  translate  "/  have 
never  read  any  thing  by  Afoliere  "  by  "  Je  nai  pas 
jamais  lit  quelque  chose  par  Afoliere,"  on  the 
ground  that  "  it  is  so  in  English."  This 
"  French "  sentence  was,  by-the-bye,  the  first 
essay  on  Moliere  I  received  at  the  hands  of  the 
English  boys. 


78  John  Bull,  Jr. 

Some  little  fellows,  trusting  their  sense  of 
sight,  have  the  objectionable  habit  of  writing 
the  translation  of  a  text  before  looking  at  it,  at 
all  events  before  seeing  it. 

Result :  "  //  raccommodait  les  vicux  souliers  " 
— "  He  recommended  the  old  soldiers." 

A  clever  boy,  whilst  reading  a  comedy  at  first 
sight,  translated  "  EGLANTINE  (baissanl  Its 
yeux)  "  by  "  EGLAXTIXE  (kissing  his  eyes)." 

You  naughty  boy  ! 


I  once  read  the  following  sound  advice  given 
in  the  preface  of  a  French  Translation  book  : 


"  i.  Read  the  passage  carefully  through,  at 
least  twice." 

"  2.  Keep  as  closely  as  possible  to  the  origi- 
nalin  sense,  but  use  English  idiom  boldly." 

"  3.  Never  write  down  nonsense." 

Now,  and  whilst  I  think  of  it,  why  unseen? 

It  may  be  that  I  do  not  perceive  the  niceties 
of  the  English  language,  but  this  commonly 
used  word,  "  unseen,"  never  conveyed  any  mean- 
ing to  my  mind.  Would  not  "  unforeseen  "  be 
a  better  word  ?  I  would  timidly  suggest. 

If  the  book  in  question  succeeded  in  making 


John  Bull,  Jr.  79 

boys  carry  out  the  foregoing  suggestions,  it 
would  be  worth  its  weight  in  gold. 

As  far  as  my  experience  goes,  the  only  hint 
which  I  have  known  them  follow  is  the  one  that 
tells  them  to  use  English  idiom  boldly. 

A  drawback  to  these  hints  is  that  they  are 
given  in  the  preface.  Now,  dear  colleagues  and 
confreres,  which  of  you  has  ever  known  a  school- 
boy read  the  preface  of  his  book  ? 


8o  John  Bull,  Jr. 


VII. 

ENGLISH  BOYS  ON  FRENCH  ETYMOLOGIES. — WHY  "  SI- 
LENCE "  IS  THE  ONLY  FRENCH  NOUN,  ENDING  IN  "  ENCE," 

THAT  IS  OF  THE  MASCULINE  GENDER. — A  VALUABLE 
SERVICE  RENDERED  BY  THE  AUTHOR  TO  HIS  LAND  OF 
ADOPTION.—  LEARNED  ETYMOLOGIES.—  RETURN  TO 
OLD  PHILOLOGICAL  METHODS. — REMARKABLE  QUES- 
TIONS — WRITTEN  AND  ORAL  EXAMINATIONS. — A  KIND 
EXAMINER. — How  LONG  WOULD  IT  TAKE  THE  MOON  TO 
FALL  TO  THE  EARTH? — How  MANY  YARDS  OF  CLOTH 

IT  TAKES  TO  COVER  AN  ASS. — I  EXAMINE  IN  GERMAN. 

FRENCH  boys,  and  only  of  late,  are  made  to  go 
through  a  course  of  French  philology  during 
their  last  two  years  at  school ;  but  English 
school-boys,  who-  are  seldom  taught  to  speak 
French,  and  who  would  find  it  just  as  difficult 
to  make  themselves  understood  in  Paris  as  they 
would  in  Pekin,  are  made  to  study  the  "  rudi- 
ments "  of  French  philology,  that  is  to  say,  the 
origin  of  words  they  are  unable  to  put  together 
so  as  to  make  French  sentences  of  them. 

I  might  take  this  opportunity  for  discussing 
whether  English  school-boys  should  not  leave 
alone  all  this  nonsense,  and  devote  the  little 


John  Bull,  Jr.  81 

spare  time  they  have  to  learning  how  to  put 
French  words  together  with  a  decent  pronunci- 
ation ;  but  I  have  promised  myself  to  discuss 
nothing  in  this  little  volume  of  personal  recol- 
lections, and  I  will  keep  my  word. 

After  all,  what  Englishmen  want  to  be  able  to 
do  is  to  write  a  letter  in  French,  and  to  ask  for 
a  steak  or  a  mutton-chop  in  a  French  restau- 
rant, without  having  to  low  or  bleat  to  make  the 
waiter  understand  that  it  is  beef  or  mutton  they 
want. 

I  did  not  go  to  England  to  make  reforms  ;  I 
accept  things  as  I  see  them,  and  I  generally  wait 
to  give  my  advice  until  I  am  asked  for  it. 

So  French  philology  is  taught.  A  hundred 
exercises,  which  I  have  under  my  eyes,  show  me 
the  results  of  the  philological  teaching  of  French 
in  England. 


For  once — now  for  once  only,  let  me  make  a 
boast. 

Small  as  I  am,  I  have  rendered  a  valuable  ser- 
vice to  the  land  of  my  adoption.  Yes,  a  service 
to  England,  nothing  short  of  that. 

For  over  fifteen  years,  the  French  examiners 
in  the  University  of  London  invariably  every  year 
asked  the  candidates  for  Matriculation  the  fol- 
lowing question — I  had  almost  said  riddle  : 


82  John  Bull,  Jr. 

"  Which  is  the  only  French  substantive  end- 
ing in  ence  that  is  of  the  masculine  gender,  and 
why  ? " 

You  may  picture  to  yourself  the  unhappy 
candidates,  scratching  their  heads,  and  going, 
in  their  minds,  through  the  forty  and  some 
thousand  words  which  make  up  the  French  vo- 
cabulary. 

Those  only  who  were  "  in  the  know  "  could 
answer  that  the  famous  word  was  silence,  as  it 
came  from  the  Latin  neuter  noun  silentiuin, 
the  other  French  nouns  ending  in  ence  (from 
Latin  feminine  nouns  in  entia)  being  feminine. 

"  Well,"  I  said  one  day  to  the  examiner,  an 
eminent  confrere  and  friend,  "  don't  you  think 
you  make  the  candidates  waste  a  good  deal  of 
their  valuable  time,  and  that  it  would  be  better 
to  ask  them  the  question  (if  you  must  ask  it) 
in  a  straightforward  manner?" 

He  thought  I  was  right,  and  for  two  years 
more  the  question  was  asked  again,  but  in  the 
following  improved  manner : 

"  Explain  why  silence  is  the  only  French  noun, 
ending  in  ence,  that  is  of  the  masculine  gender." 

This  was  sensible,  and  I  hoped  the  examiner 
would  for  a  long  time  to  come  be  in  smooth 
water. 

The  gods  willed  it  otherwise. 

One  morning  he  came  to  me  in  a  great  state 
of  excitement. 


John  Bull,  Jr.  83 

"  I  am  furious  !  "  he  said.  "  I  believe  one  of 
the  candidates  has  been  laughing  at  me." 

"  You  don't  say  so  !  "  I  remarked. 

"  I  believe  so,"  he  continued,  whilst  untying 
a  bundle  of  papers.  "  Now  look  at  this,"  he 
cried,  handing  me  a  copy ;  "  have  you  ever 
seen  such  impudence  ?  " 

I  looked,  but  could  make  nothing  out  of  it. 

"What's  the  matter  ?  "  I  inquired. 

"  Well,  I  asked  the  candidates  the  question 
about  the  gender  of  silence." 

"  I  know,  the  famous  question,  eh  ?  " 

"Never  mind  that.  See  the  answer  one  of 
them  gives  me,"  and  he  pointed  it  out  to  me.  It 
ran  thus  : 

"  Silence  is  the  only  French  noun,  ending  in 
cnce,  that  is  masculine,  because  it  is  the  only 
thing  women  can  not  keep." 

Tears  of  sympathy  for  the  boy  trickled  down 
my  cheeks  ;  I  thought  it  was  lovely. 

"  Well,"  I  said,  when  I  had  recovered,  "  it 
serves  you  right." 

"  I  will  plough  that  boy  !  "  he  ejaculated. 

"  No,  you  won't  do  that,"  I  said.  "  How  did 
he  do  the  rest  of  the  paper  ? " 

"  Very  well,  indeed  ;  the  impudent  scamp  is  a 
clever  fellow." 

"  And  a  wit,"  I  added;  "  you  must  not  plough 
him." 


84  John  Bull,  Jr. 

I  never  knew  the  fate  of  that  boy,  although  I 
believe  I  saved  him. 

But  what  I  do  know  is  that  never,  never  since, 
has  the  question  found  place  in  the  Matricula- 
tion papers  of  the  University  of  London. 


A  boy,  having  to  give  the  etymology  of  the 
French  word  dimanche,  and  explain  why  "book" 
and  "pound"  are  expressed  by  the  same  French 
word  livre,  perpetrated  the  following  : 

"  Dimanche  is  a  compound  word,  formed  from 
di  (twice),  and  manche  (to  eat),  because  you  take 
two  meals  on  that  day  (Sunday)."  * 

"  Livre  stands  for  '  book  '  as  well  as  for 
.'pound,'  because  the  accounts  of  'pounds' 
are  kept  in  '  books.'  " 

It  was  the  same  boy  who,  being  asked  for  the 
meaning  of  cordon  bleu,  answered  "  a  teetotaler." 


A  young  Briton,  having  to  derive  the  French 
word  tropique,  wrote : 

*  Dear  boy  !  he  probably  was  a  -weekly  boarder,  and  the 
Sunday  fare  at  home  had  left  sweet  recollections  in  his  mind. 
This  beats  Swift's  etymology  of "  cucumber"  which  he  once 
gave  at  a  dinner  of  the  Philological  Society :  "  King  Jere- 
miah, Jeremiah  King,  Jerkin,  Gherkin,  Cucumber." 


John  Bull,  Jr.  85 

"  This  word  comes  from  trap  (too  much),  and 
ique  (from  Latin  hie  which  means  here),  with  the 
word  heat  understood,  that  is  to  say:  Tropique,  it 
is  too  hot  here." 


Another  boy,  with  a  great  deal  of  imagination 
and  power  of  deduction,  having  to  give  the  deri- 
vation of  the  French  word  cheval,  wrote  the  fol- 
lowing essay  : 

"  Cheval  comes  from  the  Latin  equus.  The 
letter  u  was  written  v,  which  gave 

equits  =  eqvus  —  quevus. 

"  This  word  became  guevahis,  which  finally 
gave  theval." 

We  might  exclaim  with  d'Aceilly  : 

"  CAeva/vient  A'equus,  sans  doute  ; 

Mais  il  faut  convenir  aussi 

Qu'a  venir  de  la  jusqu'ici, 

II  a  bien  change  sur  la  route."* 


This  boy's  method  is,  after  all,  a  return  to  the 
old  methods.  If  we  consult  Menage's  Etymo- 
logical Dictionary,  we  see  that  he  easily  derives 

"'Cheval'  conies  from  '  equus,'  no  doubt;  but  it 
must  be  confessed  that,  to  come  to  us  in  that  state,  it  has 
sadly  altered  on  the  way. " 


86  John  Bull,  Jr. 

rat  from  mus,  and  haricot  from  faba,  to  take 
only  two  instances  of  the  method. 

"  The  Latin  mus"  he  says,  "  became  muratus, 
and  then  ratus,  which  gave  us  rat." 

He   deals   no   less  successfully  with  haricot, 


"  The  Latin  faba  became  by  corruption  faba- 
ricus,  which  altered  into  fabaricotus,  and  finally 
into  aricotus,  which  gave  us  haricot." 

After  this  we  may  appreciate  Voltaire's  remark 
that  "  philologists  take  no  account  of  vowels, 
and  very  little  notice  of  consonants." 

Nor  do  boys. 


If  the  answers,  given  by  candidates  at  exami- 
nations are  often  remarkable,  the  questions  asked 
by  the  examiners  are  often  more  wonderful  still. 
Here  are  a  few  which  have  been  seriously  asked, 
and— -proh  pudor  ! — published  : 

"  Define,  with  reference  to  passages  in  the 
Lettres  Provinciates,  '  grace  suffisante,'  '  grace 
efficace/  grace  actuelle,'  '  casuisine,'  '  pouvoir 
prochain,'  '  probabilisme.'  Also  explain  what 
is  meant  by  '  casuistry.'  What  can  be  said  in 
its  defence  ?  " 

"  Give  some  account  of  Escobar." 

"  What  are  the  principal  differences  between 
the  Latin  and  the  French  languages?  " 


John  Bull,  Jr.  87 

Well  might  an  eminent  confrere  exclaim  one 
day  : 

"  Is  not  all  this  printed  and  published  to  dis- 
courage the  study  of  French  ?  " 


I  once  heard  an  examiner  ask  a  dear  little  fel- 
low, aged  eleven,  the  following  poser  : 

"  Give  me  the  derivations  of  all  the  words  of 
the  French  sentence  you  have  just  read 
aloud." 

Poor  little  boy  !  He  took  the  examiner  for  a 
wonderful  man. 

So  he  was. 


English  examinations  consist  of  so  many  papers 
to  be  taken  up  ;  the  "  viva  voce  "  does  not  play 
an  important  part  in  England,  as  it  does  in 
France. 

A  "  viva  voce  "  examination  very  often  gives 
the  examiner  a  better  idea  of  the  candidate's 
abilities  and  knowledge  than  a  written  one,  but 
it  has  many  drawbacks.  It  favors  babblers  and 
the  self-assured,  and  does  not  enable  the  timid 
to  show  themselves  at  their  best. 


88  John  Bull,  Jr. 

The  more  learned  the  examiner,  the  more  kind 
and  indulgent  is  he  to  the  candidates. 

Sainte-Claire  Deville,  the  famous  French  chem- 
ist, had  to  be  declined  by  the  authorities  at  the 
Sorbonne  as  an  examiner,  because  he  used  to 
answer  his  questions  himself  to  save  the  candi- 
dates trouble. 

"  How  do  you  prepare  oxygen  ?  "  he  would 
ask.  "  By  heating  chlorate  of  potash,  don't 
you  ? " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  You  place  the  chlorate  of  potash  in  a  thin 
glass  flask,  don't  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Now  a  small  quantity  of  manganese  bi-oxide, 
mixed  with  the  chlorate  of  potash,  enables  you 
to  obtain  the  oxygen  at  a  much  lower  tempera- 
ture, does  it  not  ?  " 

4<  Yes,  sir." 

"Very  good — now,  another  question." 

And  so  forth. 


On  the  other  hand,  there  are  examiners  who 
make  it  a  rule  to  bully  the  candidates,  or,  worse 
still,  to  snub  them  They  will  ask  preposterous 
questions  with  the  mere  object  of  disconcerting 
them. 

"  How  long  would  it  take  the  moon  to  fall  to  the 


John  Bull,  Jr.  89 

earth  ?  "  I  once  heard  an  examiner  ask  a  candi- 
date to  the  baccalaur&at  es-scienccs. 

A  facetious  examiner  once  got  his  due  from  a 
young  Parisian  candidate. 

After  asking  him  a  few  "  catches,"  and  obtain- 
ing no  answers  he  suddenly  said  to  him  : 

"  Do  you  know  how  much  cloth  would  be  re- 
quired to  cover  an  ass  ? " 

"  I  do  not,  sir,"  replied  the  lad,  "  but  if  you 
are  anxious  to  know,  I  will  ask  your  tailor." 

The  audience  laughed  heartily,  and  the  exami- 
ner, seeing  that  this  time  the  laughter  was  not  on 
his  side,  congratulated  the  boy  on  his  wit,  and 
immediately  asked  him  a  few  sensible  questions, 
which  were  answered  respectfully,  and  proved 
that  the  candidate  had  his  subjects  as  ready  as 
his  wit. 


I  was  once  asked  to  examine  the  French  and 
German  classes  of  an  important  English  school. 

I  wrote  to  "  my  lords  and  gentlemen,"  saying 
that  my  knowledge  of  German  was  not  such  as 
to  enable  me  to  find  fault  with  other  people's. 

The- governors  answered  that  it  did  not  mat- 
ter, and  I  was  directed  to  proceed  to  the  Exam- 
ination. 

I  got  over  the  difficulty  by  sharing  the  work 
and  the  fees  with  an  able  German,  who  prepared 
the  questions  and  corrected  the  copies. 


go  JoJin  Bull,  Jr. 


VIII. 


ENGLISH  BOYS  ON  FRENCH  COMPOSITION.— "  Go  AHEAD" 
is  NOT  IN  FRENCH  "  ALLEZ  UNE  TETE."— How  BOYS 
SET  ABOUT  FRENCH  COMPOSITION. — A  WRITTEN  PROOF 
OF  THEIR  GUILT. — How  LARGE  ADVERTISEMENTS  CAN 
HELP  THEM. — A  Si  CMBLING-LLOCK  CLEARED  AWAY. 


You  have  achieved  a  great  success  when  you 
have  succeeded  in  getting  into  young  boys'  heads 
that  French  is  not  English  replaced  by  equivalent 
words  to  be  found  in  a  dictionary. 

This  is  the  way  boys  generally  set  about  writ- 
ing a  piece  of  English  into  French. 

They  take  the  first  English  word,  open  their 
dictionary,  and  put  down  the  French  word  they 
have  found  for  it  (the  wrong  one,  as  a  rule,  if 
more  than  one  is  given).  Then  they  take  the 
second  English  word,  to  which  they  apply  the 
same  process,  until  they  come  to  a  stop,  which 
they  carefully  reproduce  in  the  French  (many 
don't).  Tliis  done,  they  take  their  blotting- 
paper,  apply  it  on  the  copy,  rub  it  hard  for  a 
minute  or  two,  and  knock  off  to  enjoy  a  well- 
deserved  rest. 


John  Bull,  Jr.  91 

The  amount  of  blotting-paper  used  by  boys 
is  prodigious.  A  word  is  no  sooner  written 
down  than  it  is  fixed  on  the  paper  by  a  good 
hearty  rubbing  down.  They  are  afraid  it  will 
evaporate  if  not  properly  secured  on  the  paper 
at  once. 


Suppose  your  young  pupils  have  to  put  into 
French  "  I  give  you." 

They  will  first  write /<?,  then  donne.  After  the 
English  word  "  you,"  they  are  referred  to  a  note. 
They  look  at  this  note  (many  don't),  and  see 
that  they  must  put  the  pronoun  vous  before  the 
verb.  They  do  so  between  the  lines,  and  thus 
write  down  the  proof  of  their  iniquity  : 

vous 
"  je  f^  donne." 


Although  the  boys  use  their  eyes  to  look  at 
things,  there  are  few  who  use  them  to  see. 

Young  S.  was  an  exception. 

Having  to  put  into  French,  "  No  sovereign 
ever  was  more  worthy,"  he  brought  me  : 

"  Jamais  souverain  ne  fut  plus  digne." 


9 1  John  Bull,  Jr. 

I  congratulated  him  on  his  achievement,  and 
as  I  was  suspicious  he  had  been  helped  at  homei 
I  asked  him  how  he  came  to  write  this.  He' 
then  said  to  me  that  on  his  way  home  he  had 
seen  in  the  station  a  large  advertisement  of  a 
tooth-paste  maker.  The  advertisement  consisted 
of  a  huge  woman's  head,  showing  two  rows  of 
beautiful  teeth,  with  this  inscription  : 

"  Avec  de  belles  dents  jamais  femme  ne  fut 
laide." 

He  had  come  to  the  conclusion  that  this 
French  phrase  could  help  him,  and  he  took  it 
down  at  the  station. 

This  young  Briton  has  a  great  future  before 
li  i  in . 


A  boy  having  to  translate  "  I  have  gone  out," 
begins  by  writing  "fat."  That  is  understood, 
When  afterwards  he  finds  that  the  verb  sortir  is 
conjugated  with  the  auxiliary  etre,  he  changes 
fat  \n\.ojc  suis.  Nine  times  out  of  ten  he  trusts 
his  memory,  or  rather  he  leaves  it  to  chance,  and 
he  keeps  fai. 

French  books  are  loaded  with  facts,  but  few 
with  explanations. 

All  the  French  grammars  I  know  publish  the 
list  of  the  neuter  verbs  that  are  conjugated  .with 
the  auxiliary  etre,  but  none  give  boys  the  reason 


John  Hull,  Jr.  93 

why  these  verbs  are  conjugated  with  fare  and  not 
with  avoir.  Boys  learn  this  list  of  verbs  and  for- 
get it,  and  you  know  little  of  boys'  nature  if  you 
imagine  that  they  will  consult  their  grammar  at 
every  turn.  Some  do,  to  be  sure,  but  how  many  ? 

I  do  not  know  of  one  French  grammar  that 
tells  students  that  neuter  verbs,  which  express  a 
state  as  well  as  an  action,  or  rather  that  neuter 
verbs  which  express  that  a  state  is  enjoyed  as  soon 
as  the  action  is  over,  are  conjugated  with  fare. 

A  boy  will  understand  you,  and  remember  what 
you  say,  if  you  tell  him  : 

"  As  soon  as  you  have  died,  you  are  dead.  This 
is  why  the  verb  mourir,  expressing  the  state  of 
being  dead,  as  soon  as  the  action  of  dying  is  over, 
has  to  be  conjugated  with  fare" 

"  As  soon  as  you  have  arrived,  you  are  arrived." 

"  As  soon  as  you  have  been  born,  you  are  born." 

"  Therefore  all  these  verbs  arriver,  naitre,  venir, 
sortir,  partir,  etc.,  are  conjugated  with  fare" 

"  By  this  reasoning,  with  courir  (to  run)  you 
get  an  absurdity.  '  As  soon  as  you  have  run  you 
are  run  '  is  an  absurdity.  Therefore  courir,  ex- 
pressing only  an  action,  not  a  state,  takes  avoir" 

Yes,  boys  will  understand  all  that,  and  noth- 
ing gives  them  more  pleasure  than  having  their 
minds  satisfied  with  a  little  explanatory  food.  I 
have  seen  rays  of  happy  satisfaction  flashing  over 
scores  of  young  faces  as  ihey  got  hold  of  these 
facts. 


94  John  Bull,  Jr. 

For  the  same  reason,  reflexive  verbs  are  con- 
jugated with  itre,  because  they  also  express  that 
a  state  is  enjoyed  as  soon  as  the  action  is  over. 

"  As  soon  as  you  hai^e  washed  yourself  you 
are  washed — if  you  have  done  it  properly,  of 
course." 

Tell  the  boys  so,  and  they  will  laugh,  and 
they  will  understand  you,  and  they  will  be  grate- 
ful to  you. 


I  could  give  hundreds  of  instances  in  which  a 
few  explanatory  words  would  settle  grammatical 
facts  in  boys'  minds  ;  but,  although  I  am  tempted 
at  almost  every  page  to  turn  this  book  into  a 
class-book,  I  must  bear  in  mind  that  my  aim  is 
not  to  instruct,  and  pass  on. 


John  Bull,  Jr.  95 


IX. 

How  TO  BE  HAPPY  THOUGH  A  SCHOOLMASTER. — SUGGES- 
TIONS AND  HINTS  FOR  THE  CLASS-ROOM. — BOYS  ON  HIS- 
TORY AND  GEOGRAPHY.  —  "MAXIMS"  AND  "WISE 
THOUGHTS." — ADVICE  TO  THOSE  ABOUT  TO  TEACH. — 
"SIR,"  AND  NOT  "  Mossoo."  —  "  FRAULEINS  "  AND 
"  MADEMOISELLES." — "  CHECK  "  YOUR  LOVE  FOR  BOYS. 
— No  CREDIT. — WE  ARE  ALL  LIABLE  TO  MAKE  MIS- 
TAKES.— I  GET  AN  INSIGHT  INTO  "  STOCKS." 

I  KNOW  masters  who  spend  their  time  looking  at 
their  books  with  their  heads  downwards,  and 
who  only  occasionally  lift  them  up  to  say  to  a 
boisterous  class  : 

"  Now  then,  now  then  !  " 

,  They  might  as  well  tell  the  boys  :  "  Just  take 
a  minute's  rest,  my  dears,  will  you  ?  In  a  mo- 
ment I  shall  be  looking  at  my  desk  again,  then 
you  will  be  able  to  go  on." 


Face  the  boys,  or  you  will  be  nowhere. 


Always  be  lively.     If  you  once  let  the  boys  go 
to  sleep,  you  will  never  wake  them  up  again. 


96  John  Bull,  Jr. 

Always  look  the  same  in  face  and  person. 
Your  moustache  curtailed,  your  whiskers  shaved, 
or  the  usual  shape  of  your  coat  altered,  will 
cause  a  revolution  in  your  class. 


Never  show  your  temper  if  you  have  one,  and 
keep  the  changes  of  your  temperature  for  the 
benefit  of  your  wife  and  family.  If  you  once 
show  your  boys  that  they  have  enough  power  to 
disturb  your  equilibrium  and  interfere  with  your 
happiness,  it  is  for  them  a  victory,  the  results  of 
which  they  will  always  make  you  feel. 


If  you  are  annoyed  by  a  boy  constantly  chat- 
ting with  his  neighbors,  see  if  he  has  a  brother 
in  the  class.  If  he  has,  place  them  side  by  side, 
and  peace  will  be  restored.  Brothers  will  some- 
times quarrel  in  class,  but  have  a  quiet  chat  to- 
gether, never. 


Never  overpraise  clever  boys,  or  they  will 
never  do  another  stroke  of  work.  Never  snub 
the  dull  ones  ;  you  don't  know  that  it  is  not  out 
of  modesty  that  they  will  not  shine  over  their 
schoolfellows. 


John  Bull,  Jr.  97 

Never  ask  young  English  public  schoolboys 
any  questions  on  history  that  may  be  suggested 
to  you  by  the  proper  names  you  will  come  across 
in  the  text.  Their  knowledge  of  history  *  does 
not  go  much  beyond  the  certainty  that  Shake- 
speare was  not  a  great  Roman  warrior,  although 
his  connection  with  Julius  Caesar,  Antony,  and 
Coriolanus  keep  a  good  many  still  undecided  as 
to  the  times  he  lived  in. 

Ask  them  under  whose  reign  Ben  Jonson 
flourished,  and  you  will  be  presented  by  them 
with  a  general  survey  of  English  history  from  the 
Norman  Conquest  to  the  reign  of  Her  Most 
Gracious  Majesty  Queen  Victoria.  A  good 
many  will  also  take  the  opportunity  of  making  a 
show  of  their  knowledge  of  literary  history  (the 
temptation  is  irresistible),  and  add  that  he  was  a 
great  man  who  wrote  a  good  dictionary,  and  was 
once  kept  waiting  for  a  long  time  in  Lord  Ches- 
terfield's antechamber,  "  which  he  did  not  like." 
Boys  are  generally  good  at  historical  anecdotes, 
a  remnant  of  their  early  training. 


*  I  mean  "  modern  history ',"  for  although  public  school- 
boys know  little  or  nothing  of  ATarlborough  and  Wellington, 
they  could  "write  volumes  about  Pericles,  Scipio,  and  Hanni- 
bal. Ask  them  something  about  the  Reform  Bill,  the  Re- 
peal of  the  Corn  Laws,  or  the  causes  which,  led  to  American 
Independence,  and  you  will  have  little  essays  worth  insert- 
ing in  a  comic  paper. 


98  John  Bull,  Jr. 

We  once  had  to  put  into  French  the  following 
sentence  : 

"  Frederick  the  Great  of  Prussia  had  the  por- 
trait of  the  young  Emperor  in  every  room  of  his 
Sans-Souci  Palace,  and  being  asked  the  reason 
why  he  thus  honored  the  portrait  of  his  greatest 
enemy,  answered  that  the  Emperor  was  a  busy, 
enterprising  young  monarch,  and  that  he  found 
it  necessary  always  to  have  an  eye  upon  him." 

I  asked  the  class  who  this  Emperor  was  that 
Frederick  the  Great  seemed  to  fear  so  much,  and 
I  obtained  many  answers,  including  Alexander 
the  Great  and  most  well-known  imperial  rulers 
down  to  Napoleon  the  First ;  but  not  one  named 
Joseph  II.  of  Austria. 

Another  time  we  were  translating  a  piece  of 
Massillon,  taken  from  his  celebrated  Petit 
Careme. 

When  we  came  to  the  following  passage,  in  his 
sermon  on  Flattery:  "  The  Lord,"  once  said  the 
holy  King,  "  shall  cut  off  all  flattering  lips, 
and  the  tongue  that  speaketh  proud  things,"  I 
asked  the  boys,  who,  by-the-bye,  were  referred  in 
the  notes  to  Psalm  xii.  3,  who  was  this  holy  King 
mentioned  by  Massillon  ? 

The  first  answer  was  "  Charles  I."  The  second 
was  "  Saint  Louis,"  and  I  should  not  probably 
have  received  the  proper  answer  if  I  had  not 
expressed  my  astonishment  at  finding  that  no- 


John  Bull,  Jr.  99 

body  in  the  class  seemed  to  know  who  wrote  the 
Psalms. 

Even  after  this  remark  of  mine,  many  boys 
remained  silent  ;  but  at  last  one  timidly  sug- 
gested "  David." 

He  did  not  seem  to  be  quite  sure. 

"  This,"  I  thought  to  myself  at  the  time,  "  is 
hardly  an  encouragement  to  make  children  read 
the  Bible  twice  a  day  from  the  time  they  can 
spell." 


The  knowledge  of  geography  is  not  more  wide- 
spread than  the  knowledge  of  history  among 
these  same  boys.  So,  if  you  have  no  time  to 
•waste  don't  ask  them  where  places  are. 

They  know  where  England  is  ;  they  know  more 
or  less  precisely  the  position  of  India,  Canada, 
Australia,  New  Zealand,  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope, 
and  such  other  spots  of  the  earth  as  are  marked 
in  red  on  the  maps  published  in  England. 

France,  Russia,  Germany,  Austria,  Italy, 
Spain,  Turkey,  they  could  after  a  few  hesitations 
find  out  on  the  map  of  Europe,  but  as  they  are 
not  marked  in  red,  their  patriotism  prevents 
them  from  taking  any  more  interest  in  these 
countries. 

France,  however,  is  rather  interesting  to  them 
as  being  a  part  of  the  globe  in  which  the  French 
irregular  verbs  come  by  nature. 


ioo  John  Bull,  Jr. 

Never  expect  any  thanks  for  all  the  trouble 
you  have  taken  over  your  pupils. 

When  boys  succeed  in  their  examinations,  it 
is  owing  to  their  intelligence  and  industry  ;  when 
they  fail,  it  is  owing  to  the  bad  teaching  of  their 
masters.  Boys  can  do  no  wrong  ;  get  this  well 
engraven  on  your  minds. 


When  a  boy  laughs  at  a  mistake  made  by  a 
schoolfellow,  do  not  believe  that  he  does  so  out 
of  contempt,  and  that  he  knows  better.  Ask  him 
for  the  answer  immediately,  and  he  will  be  as 
quiet  as  you  please. 

If  you  observe  him  a  little,  you  will  see  that  he 
never  begins  to  laugh  before  you  have  declared 
the  answer  of  his  schoolfellow  to  be  wrong  ;  he 
would  never  know  himself. 


I  always  carefully  prepared  the  piece  of  French 
that  my  pupils  had  to  translate,  in  order  to  be 
ready  with  all  the  questions  suggested  to  me  by 
the  text  ;  but  I  never  prepared  composition  :  I 
preferred  working  it  in  class  with  them,  so  as  to 
show  them  that  scores  of  French  sentences 
properly  rendered  an  English  one.  I  think  it  is 
a  mistake  to  impose  one  rendering  of  an  English 
sentence.  Anybody  can  do  this — with  a  key. 


John  Bull,  Jr.  101 

Be  not  solemn  in  class,  nor  aim  at  astonishing 
the  boys  with  your  eloquence. 

To  look  at  their  staring  eyes  and  gaping 
mouths,  you  may  perhaps  imagine  that  they  are 
lost  in  ecstatic  admiration.  Look  again,  they  are 
all  yawning. 


When  you  have  made  the  personal  acquain- 
tance of  the  boys  who  are  to  make  up  a  class 
during  the  term,  you  can  easily  assign  to  them 
seats  that  will  not  perhaps  please  them,  but 
which  will  insure  peace.  A  quiet  boy  placed 
between  two  noisy  chatterboxes,  or  a  chatterbox 
placed  between  two  solemn  boys,  will  go  a  long 
way  towards  securing  your  comfort  and  hap- 
piness. The  easiest  class-room  to  manage  is  the 
one  furnished  with  separate  desks.  Then  you 
may  easily  carry  the  government  on  the  old 
principle  of  Divide  et  regna. 


If  you  see  a  boy  put  his  hand  before  his  mouth 
whilst  he  is  talking,  snub  him  hard  for  it.  Tell 
him  that,  when  you  were  a  boy  and  wanted  to 
have  a  quiet  chat  with  a  neighbor,  you  were  not 
so  silly  as  to  thus  draw  the  master's  attention 
and  get  your  little  conversation  disturbed. 


102  John  Bull,  Jr. 

We  are  none  of  us  infallible,  not  even  the 
youngest  of  us,  as  the  late  Master  of  Trinity 
College,  Cambridge,  once  wittily  remarked. 

Never  be  tired  of  asking  for  advice  ;  you  will 
become  a  good  schoolmaster  only  on  condition 
that  you  will  take  constant  advice  from  the  old 
stagers. 

If,  however,  you  should  discover  that,  in  the 
middle  of  your  lesson,  your  pupils  are  all  sound 
asleep,  don't  go  and  tell  the  head-master,  and 
ask  him  how  you  should  set  about  keeping  them 
awake.  This  is  beyond  his  advice. 


The  General  commanding  a  French  military 
school  had  once  decided  upon  having  a  lecture 
on  Hygiene  given  to  the  pupils  on  Monday  after- 
noons. The  day  was  badly  chosen.  A  French 
Sunday  always  means  for  a  French  boy  a  little 
dissipation  in  the  shape  of  a  good  dinner  at 
home  or  with  friends,  and  on  Monday  after- 
noons we  generally  felt  ready  for  a  little  doze, 
if  the  lecture  was  in  the  least  prosy. 

The  lecturer,  tired  of  addressing  sleeping 
audiences,  lodged  a  complaint  with  the  General, 
and  asked  that  his  lecture  should  henceforth 
take  place  on  another  day  of  the  week. 

This  could  not  be  arranged,  but  the  General 
soon  decided  upon  a  plan  to  set  matters  to  rights. 


John  Hull,  Jr.  103 

"  I  will  place  a  basof  *  in  the  room,"  he  said  ; 
"he  will  take  down  the  names  of  all  those  who 
go  to  sleep,  and  I  shall  have  them  kept  in  on  the 
following  Sunday." 

When  the  lecturer  made  his  next  appearance, 
followed  by  the  basof,  we  thought  it  would  be 
prudent  to  listen,  and  the  lesson  passed  off  with- 
out accident. 

The  following  Monday,  however,  the  poor 
lecturer  had  not  proceeded  very  far,  when  he 
discovered  that  we  were  all  asleep — and  that  so 
was  the  basof. 

Of  course  the  General  inflicted  a  severe 
punishment  upon  us,  and  also  upon  the  offend- 
ing Cerberus. 

Moral. — I  believe  that,  if  a  lecturer  or  a 
master  had  gone  to  complain  to  an  English  head- 
master that  all  his  pupils  went  to  sleep  whilst  he 
lectured,  the  head-master  would  have  answered 
him  : 

"  My  dear  sir,  if  your  lecture  sends  your 
audience  to  sleep,  it  is  your  fault,  not  mine,  and 
I  don't  see  how  I  can  help  you." 

And  the  sooner  the  man  sent  in  his  resigna- 
tion, the  better  for  the  comfort  of  all  concerned. 


*  Abbreviation  of  "  bas-officier  "  (non-commissioned  officer). 


104  John  £ull,  Jr. 

If  you  are  a  Frenchman,  never  allow  your 
boys  to  call  you  Mossoo,  My  shoo,  Mounzeer,  or 
any  other  British  adaptation  of  Monsieur.  If 
you  do,  you  may  just  as  well  allow  them  to  pat 
you  on  the  back  and  call  you  "Old  chappie." 
They  should  call  you  "  Sir,"  otherwise  you  will 
lose  your  footing  and  fail  to  be  the  colleague  of 
the  English  masters.  You  will  only  be  the 
Mossoo  of  the  place,  something,  in  the  world, 
like  the  Mademoiselle  (from  Paris),  or  the 
Fraulein  (from  Hanover),  of  the  Establishment 
for  Young  Ladies  round  the  corner. 


All  the  Frauleins  come  from  Hanover,  as  all 
the  Mademoiselles  are  Parisian  and  Protestants, 
if  I  am  to  believe  the  column  of  scholastic  ad- 
vertisements in  the  English  newspapers. 

This  is  wonderful,  is  it  not  ? 


If  you  set  any  value  on  your  reputation  and 
your  time,  never  carry  the  interest  which  you 
naturally  take  in  your  pupils  the  length  of  invit- 
ing them  to  come  to  your  house  to  receive  extra 
teaching  at  your  hands,  unless  it  be  as  a  means 
of  improving  your  revenue. 

I  once  determined  to  devote  all  my  Saturday 


John  JBull,  Jr.  105 

evenings  to  two  young  fellows  whom  I  was 
anxious  to  pass  through  the  Indian  Civil  Service 
examination.  I  thus  worked  with  them  five 
months.  Their  fathers  were  men  of  position. 
I  never  received  so  much  as  a  post-card  of  thanks 
from  them.  If  I  had  charged  them  a  guinea  for 
each  visit,  I  should  have  received  two  checks 
with  "  many  thanks  for  my  valuable  services," 
which  would  have  benefited  my  banking  account 
and  given  satisfaction  to  my  professional  vanity. 
I  have  since  "  checked  "  my  love  for  boys. 


Shun  interviews  with  parents,  mothers  espe- 
cially, as  you  would  the  plague.  Leave  this 
privilege  to  the  head-master,  who  is  paid  hand- 
somely for  these  little  drawbacks  to  his  position. 
If  they  invite  you  to  dinner,  do  not  fall  into  the 
snare,  but  remember  that  a  previous  engagement 
prevents  you  from  having  the  pleasure  of  accept- 
ing their  kind  invitation.  Never  enter  into  cor- 
respondence with  them  on  the  subject  of  "  their 
dear  boy."  If,  to  inflict  scruples  on  your  con- 
science, they  should  enclose  a  stamped  envelope, 
give  a  penny  to  the  first  beggar  you  meet  on 
leaving  school.  Relieve  the  conscience,  but, 
whatever  you  do,  don't  answer. 


Always  pretend  you  have  not  seen  a  breach  of 


io6  John  Bull,  Jr. 

discipline  when  you  are  not  quite  sure  about  the 
offender,  or,  when  sure,  you  can  not  bring  a 
clear  charge  against  him.  You  have  no  time  for 
investigations. 

Wait  for  another  chance.  A  boy  never  rests 
upon  an  unpunished  offence. 

Offence  and  punishment  should  be  exchanged 
like  shots. 

No  credit  :  cash: 


If  you  correct  little  boys'  copies  yourself,  you 
will  find  that  you  have  undertaken  a  long  and 
wearisome  task  that  brings  no  result.  When 
you  return  these  copies,  they  are  received  with 
thanks,  folded  up,  carefully  pocketed,  and  never 
looked  at  again.  Make  the  boys  reserve  a  good 
wide  margin  for  the  corrections.  Underline  all 
their  mistakes,  and,  under  your  eyes,  make  them 
correct  the  mistakes  themselves. 


However  well  up  you  may  be  in  your  subjects, 
you  are  sure  to  find  yourself  occasionally  trip- 
ping. The  derivation  of  a  certain  word  will 
escape  you  for  a  moment,  or  the  right  transla- 
tion of  another  will  not  come  to  your  mind 
quickly  enough.  With  grown-up  and  intelligent 
young  fellows  in  advanced  classes,  no  need  to 


John  B 'it II,  Jr.  107 

apologise.  But  with  little  boys  you  must  remem- 
ber that  you  are  an  oracle.  Never  for  a  moment 
let  them  doubt  your  infallibility ;  call  up  all  the 
resources  of  your  ingenuity,  and  find  a  way  out 
of  the  difficulty.  So  a  good  actor,  whose 
memory  fails  him  for  the  time,  calls  upon  his 
imagination  to  supply  its  place.  And  must  not 
any  man,  who  would  gain  and  keep  the  ear  of  a 
mixed  audience,  be  a  bit  of  an  actor,  let  his 
theatre  be  the  hustings,  the  church,  or  the  class- 
room ?  Has  not  a  master  to  appear  perfectly 
cross  when  he  is  perfectly  cool,  or  perfectly  cool 
when  he  is  perfectly  cross?  Is  not  fhis  acting  ? 

It  once  fell  to  my  unhappy  lot  to  be  requested 
to  take  an  arithmetic  class  twice  a  week,  during 
the  temporary  absence  of  a  mathematical  mas- 
ter. In  my  youth  I  was  a  little  of  a  mathema- 
tician, but  figures  I  was  always  bad  at.  As  for 
English  sums,  with  their  bewildering  complica- 
tions of  pounds,  shillings,  pence,  and  farthings, 
which  that  practical  people  still  fondly  cling  to, 
it  has  always  been  a  subject  of  wonder  to  me 
how  the  English  themselves  do  them.  How  I 
piloted  those  dear  boys  through  Bills  of  Parcels 
I  don't  know  ;  but  it  is  a  fact  that  we  got  on 
pretty  well  till  we  reached  "  Stocks."  Here  my 
path  grew  very  thorny. 

One  morning  the  boys  all  came  with  the  same 
sad  story.  None  had  been  able  to  do  one  of 
the  sums  I  had  given  them  from  the  book.  They 


io8  John  Bull,  Jr. 

had  all  tried  ;  their  brothers  had  tried  ;  their 
fathers  had  tried  ;  not  one  could  do  it. 

A  short  look  at  it  convinced  me  that  I  should 
have  no  more  chance  of  success  than  all  those 
Britons,  young  and  old,  but  it  would  never  do  to 
let  my  pupils  know  this.  They  must  suppose 
that  those  few  moments  had  been  sufficient  for 
me  to  master  the  sum  in.  So,  assuming  my  most 
solemn  voice,  I  said  : 

"  Why,  boys,  do  you  mean  to  tell  me  you  can 
not  do  such  a  simple  sum  as  this  ?  " 

"  No,  we  can't,  sir,"  was  the  general  cry. 

"  Why,  Robinson,  not  even  you  ? "  I  said  to 
the  top  boy.  "  I  always  considered  you  a  sharp 
lad.  Jones,  you  cannot  ?  Nor  Brown  ?  Well, 
well;  it's  too  bad." 

And,  putting  on  a  look  of  pitying  contempt — 
which  must  have  been  quite  a  success,  to  judge 
by  the  dejection  written  on  the  faces  before 
me — I  proceeded  to  give  them  a  little  lecture  on 
their  arithmetical  shortcomings.  I  felt  saved. 
It  was  near  the  time  for  dismissing  the  class. 

"  Boys,"  said  I,  to  finish  up,  *'  I  must  have 
been  sadly  mistaken  in  you  ;  the  best  thing  we 
can  do  is  to  go  back  to  addition  and  subtraction 
to-morrow." 

Without  being  quite  so  hard  as  that  upon 
them,  I  set  them  an  easy  task  for  the  next  les- 
son; the  bell  rang,  and  the  boys  dispersed. 

1  immediately  went  to  the  head  mathematical 


John  Bull,  Jr.  109 

master,  and  had  the  difficulty  explained  away  in 
a  few  seconds. 

How  simple  things  are  when  they  are  ex- 
plained, to  be  sure  ! 

Armed  with  a  new  insight  into  Stocks,  I  was 
ready  for  my  young  friends  the  following  Fri- 
day. After  the  ordinary  work  had  been  got 
through: 

"Now,"  I  said,  "have  you  had  another  try  at 
that  sum,  any  of  you  ? " 

"  Yes,  sir  ;  but  we  can't  do  it,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Well,"  I  said,  in  a  relenting  tone,  as  I  went 
to  the  blackboard,  "I  suppose  we  had  better  do 
it  together." 

I  made  the  boys  confess  it  was  too  stupid  of 
them  to  have  proved  unequal  to  this  simple  sum; 
and  thus  they  regained  my  good  graces. 

Later  in  the  day  I  received  the  glad  tidings 
that  the  master  I  replaced  was  better  (goodness 
knows  if  I  had  prayed  for  the  return  of  his 
health!).  He  was  to  have  his  boys  next  time. 

Thus  was  I  enabled  to  retire  from  the  field 
with  flying  colors. 


If  you  do  not  love  boys,  never  be  a  school- 
master. If  you  love  boys  and  wish  to  become  a 
schoolmaster,  see  that  you  are  a  good  disciplin- 
arian, or  take  Punch's  advice  to  those  about  to 
marry: 

"  Pon't," 


John  Bull,  Jr. 


X. 

ENGLISH  BOYS'  PATRIOTISM  PUT  TO  A  SEVERE  TEST.— 
THEIR  OPINION  OF  FRENCH  VICTORIES.— KING  Louis 
VI.  OF  FRANCE  AND  THE  ENGLISH  SOLDIER  AT  THE 
BATTLE  OF  BRENNEVILLE. — AN  ENGLISH  BOY  ON 
FRENCH  WRESTLING. — YOUNG  TORY  DEMOCRATS. — 
'IMPERIUM  ET  LlBERTAS.' — A  PATRIOTIC  ANSWER. — 
DUCK  AND  DRAKE. 


I  AM  afraid  I  often  put  the  patriotism  of  Eng- 
lish boys  to  a  severe  test. 

I  generally  liked  to  place  in  their  hands  such 
books  as  would  relate  to  them  the  glorious  past 
of  France,  and  teach  them  to  respect  her.  Let 
those  who  do  not  love  their  country  throw  the 
first  stone  at  me. 

Bossuet's  "  Funeral  Orations,"  Voltaire's  "Sie- 
cle  de  Louis  XIV.,"  D'Aubigne's  "  History  of 
Bayard,"  Bonnechose's  "  Lazare  Hoche,"  were 
among  my  favorite  text-books. 

I  need  not  say  that  I  always  avoided  recom- 
mending historical  books  which,  like  Bonne- 
chose's "  Bertrand  du  Guesclin,"  for  instance, 
referred  to  struggles  between  France  and  Eng- 
land. For  obvious  reasons,  I  have  always  pre- 


Jo/in  £u//,  Jr.  1 1 1 

ferred  reading  the  accounts  of  the  battles  of 
Cressy,  Poictiers,  and  Agincourt  in  French  his- 
tories to  reading  them  in  English  ones  ;*  and  I 
imagined  that  Bertrand  du  Guesclin  would  not 
inspire  in  my  pupils  the  same  admiration  as  he 
did  in  us  French  bovs. 


But  what  fiery  patriots  these  British  lads  are  ! 
Why,  they  would  like  to  monopolize  all  the  vic- 
tories mentioned  in  history. 

Bossuet's  panegyric  of  Louis  XIV.  drove  them 
frantic,  half  mad.  Dear  little  fellows !  they 
were  wriggling  with  pain  on  their  seats  as  we 
were  reading:  "  This  king,  the  terror  of  his  ene- 
mies, who  holds  the  destinies  of  Europe  in  the 
hollow  of  his  hand  and  strikes  with  awe  the 
whole  astonished  world." 

"The  whole  world  struck  with  awe!"  that 
could  not  be.  Surely  Bossuet  ought  to  have 
said  "  with  the  exception  of  England  " — a  sad 
omission  on  his  part. 

"Who  is  it  Bossuet  is  speaking  of?"  once 
remarked  a  good  little  patriot,  on  hearing  this 
sentence. 


*  /  have  ahvays  been  doubtful  whether  these  battles  are 
properly  related  in  histories  published  in  England. 


ii2  John  Bull,  Jr. 

"  Louis  XIV." 

"Louis  XIV.?" 

"  Yes  ;  never  heard  of  him  ?  " 

I  don't  think  he  had. 

Bayard  they  all  liked.  His  personal  deeds  of 
valor  appealed  to  their  young  imaginations.  His 
athletic  powers  especially  stirred  their  hearts 
with  admiration. 

Besides,  his  exploits  took  place  such  a  long 
time  ago  that  they  felt  ready  to  be  lenient  to- 
wards him. 


We  once  came  across  the  name  of  Louis  VI. 
of  France  in  some  French  text,  and  I  was  un- 
fortunate enough  to  mention  in  class  that,  at  the 
battle  of  Brenneville,  an  English  soldier  came  up 
to  the  French  king,  and  called  upon  him  to  sur- 
render, when  Louis  VI.  remarked  :  "  Don't  you 
know  that,  at  chess,  the  king  cannot  be  taken 
prisoner  ? "  and  immediately  struck  the  English 
soldier  dead  on  the  spot. 

The  boys  seemed  displeased.  They  looked 
at  one  another  ;  it  was  evident  that  they  thought 
there  was  something  wrong.  The  dose  was  too 
strong  for  them  to  swallow. 

I  inquired  of  a  little  lad,  who  appeared  par- 
ticularly distressed,  what  was  the  matter. 

"  Please,  sir,"  he  said,  "  did  not  the  English 
soldier  try  to  kill  the  French  king?" 


John  Bull,  Jr.  113 

"Well,  I  suppose  he  did,"  I  replied;  "but 
King  Louis  VI.  was  very  strong,  you  know." 

"  He  must  have  been  !  "  he  remarked,  no 
doubt  feeling  more  comfortable  after  my  ex- 
planation. 


This  historical  anecdote  of  an  Englishman  al- 
lowing himself  to  be  felled  to  the  ground  by  a 
Frenchman  puts  me  in  mind  of  a  little  conversa- 
tion I  heard  in  my  school-days. 

Two  young  boys,  one  French,  the  other  Eng- 
lish, were  talking  athletics  in  the  playground, 
and  the  English  boy  asked  his  young  friend  to 
explain  to  him  the  principles  of  French  wrest- 
ling. 

The  little  French  lad  proceeded,  in  a  viva- 
cious manner,  to  describe  the  successive  moves 
of  the  sport. 

He  used  the  first  person  singular  to  make  his 
description  more  forcible. 

"  First,"  he  said,  "  I  wmild  get  a  good  grasp  of 
your  waist  with  my  right  arm,  whilst  I  would 
collar  you  with  my  left  one  ;  then,  don't  you 
see,  I  would  twist  my  right  leg  round  one  of 
yours  ;  then " 

"Ah!  but  wait  a  minute,"  exclaimed  the 
English  boy,  with  a  smile.  "  What  should  I  be 
doing  all  this  time  ?  Looking  at  you,  I  sup- 
pose?" 


H4  John  J3ull,  Jr. 

It  was  at  the  meetings  of  our  French  Debating 
Society  that  free  play  was  given  to  youthful 
patriotism.  Good  heavens  !  what  a  tabula  rasa 
of  the  map  of  the  world !  What  fresh  jewels 
added  to  the  British  crown  !  I  don't  think 
there  is  a  single  little  corner  of  the  globe  worth 
mentioning  that  these  boys  did  not  lay  their 
hands  on.  With  what  a  crushing  majority  the 
"  Peace,  Retrenchment,  and  Reform "  policy 
was  defeated  !  Was  it  not  an  insult  to  this 
glorious  country  to  suggest  that  a  reform  was 
needed  ? 

"  The  Liberals,"  exclaimed  a  young  member, 
with  a  movement  of  Homeric  indignation,  "may 
be  appreciated  in  Russia,  but  they  are  not  Eng- 
lishmen." 


French  eolltgiens  are  red  radicals,  socialists, 
anarchists,  revolutionists — until  they  leave 
school.  As  I  have  said  elsewhere,  leading  the 
lives  of  prisoners,  they  dream  wild  dreams  of 
liberty,  they  gasp  for  freedom. 

Young  Britons,  enjoying  liberty  from  tender 
years,  are  perfectly  satisfied  with  their  lot,  and 
are  mostly  Conservatives.  They  identify  Con- 
servatism with  patriotism  ;  and  if  the  Franchise 
were  extended  to  them,  the  Liberal  Party  would 
have  seen  its  best  days. 

The  new  political  school  inaugurated  by  Lord 


John  Bull,  Jr.  115 

Randolph  Churchill  is  greatly  in  favor  with  Eng- 
lish boys  ;  we  had  many  Tory  Democrats  among 
us. 

"  Imperium  et  Libertas  "  are  two  words  which 
sound  pleasantly  in  young  English  ears  :  the 
possession  of  a  mighty  Empire,  and  the  enjoy- 
ment of  that  "  thrice  sweet  and  gracious  god- 
dess," Liberty. 


I  once  asked  a  little  English  lad  why  his  com- 
patriots ate  roast  goose  on  the  29th  of  Septem- 
ber, the  anniversary  of  the  defeat  of  the  Spanish 
Armada. 

"Because,"  he  answered  proudly,  "the  King 
of  Spain  was  such  a  goose  as  to  come  and  attack 
our  navy  !  " 

A  colleague  of  mine  asked  the  same  question 
in  a  different  manner,  and  obtained  an  equally 
wonderful  answer. 

"  What  is  it  the  English  eat  on  the  2pth  of 
September  to  commemorate  the  defeat  of  the 
Spanish  Armada  ?"  he  asked. 

"  Roast  duck,  sir,  because  it  was  Drake  who 
beat  the  Spanish  !  " 


u6  John  Bull,  Jr. 


XI. 

CRICKET.— I  HAVE  AN  UNSUCCESSFUL  TRY  AT  IT.— BOYS' 
OPINION  OF  MY  ATHLETIC  QUALITIES.— FRENCH  AND 
ENGLISH  ATHLETES  —FEATS  OF  SKILL  AND  STRENGTH 
VERSUS  FEATS  OF  ENDURANCE  AND  BRUTE  FORCE.— A 
CASE  OF  EVICTION  BY  FORCE  OF  ARMS. 

I  NEVER  tried  my  hand  at  cricket  but  once, 
and  did  not  get  on  very  well. 

I  was  entrusted  with  the  bat.  It  was  a  heavy 
responsibility.  When  I  saw  the  ball  come  I  hit 
hard  at  it,  but  missed  it.  The  nasty  thing  struck 
me  a  woful  blow  on  the  jaw. 

I  did  not  see  much  in  the  game,  and  I  with- 
drew. 

Yet  I  confess  that,  as  I  began  to  understand 
the  rules  of  cricket,  I  also  began  to  conceive  a 
certain  amount  of  admiration  for  the  game — at 
a  respectful  distance. 


I  always  suspected  the  boys  did  not  entertain 
any  great  opinion  of  my  athletic  powers.     The 


John  JButt,  Jr.  117 

following  anecdote,  related  to  me  by  some  ladies, 
friends  of  mine,  set  my  mind  at  rest  on  the  sub- 
ject. 

These  ladies,  it  appears,  were  traveling  one 
day  on  the  London  District  line.  In  the  same 
compartment  happened  to  be  half-a-dozen  boys, 
who  we're  going  to  our  annual  school  sports. 
The  boys  soon  began  to  discuss  the  respective 
merits  of  the  favorite  runners,  as  well  as  their 
chances,  and  I  am  not  quite  sure  that  a  little 
betting  was  not  indulged  in  ;  but  this  the  ladies 
did  not  tell  me,  and  you  must  never  run  the  risk 
of  bringing  unfounded  charges  against  boys. 

Presently  a  little  fellow  suggested  that  much 
fun  would  be  added  to  the  sport  by  the  intro- 
duction of  a  master's  race  in  the  programme, 
and  naturally  this  led  the  conversation  to  the 
athletic  merits  of  the  masters. 

Said  one  of  the  merry  company  : 

"  What  do  you  think  of  the  French  master  ? " 

"  Not  much,"  said  the  chorus. 

"  Well,  he  is  powerfully  built,"  intimated  one 
with  a  knowing  look,  who  was,  perhaps,  bringing 
some  personal  recollection  to  bear  on  the 
subject. 

"  Yes,"  said  another  ;  "but  he  is  too  fat ;  he 
has  no  wind.  He  would  be  nowhere." 

"  What  would  you  take  him  at  ?  "  asked  the 
one  with  a  knowing  look. 

"  Sixty  to  one,"  was  the  reply. 


n8  John  Bull,  Jr. 

Some  discussion  took  place,  and  I  "  closed  "  at 
fifty  to  one. 

Thus  was  my  case  settled. 


As  to  the  matter  of  athletics,  to  which  English 
boys  are  such  devotees,  I  cannot  help  thinking 
that  they  are  overdone,  made  a  hobby  of,  and, 
like  most  hobbies  in  England,  ridden  to  excess. 
No  doubt  it  is  a  fine  thing  for  a  boy  to  have 
plenty  of  outdoor  amusements  ;  it  is  good  for 
him  to  be  an  adept  at  running,  leaping,  climbing, 
swimming  ;  but  what  in  the  world  does  he  learn 
at  football,  the  great  winter  game  of  the  English 
schoolboy  ?  Why  do  the  English  so  neglect 
pastimes  that  would  develop  dexterity  of  hand 
and  limb,  and  devote  themselves  to  a  game  which 
seems  to  me  to  teach  nothing  except  respect  of 
brute  force  ? 

"  Oh  !  but  it  cultivates  their  powers  of  endur- 
ance," says  somebody. 

That  is  true,  I  believe  ;  although,  from  what 
I  have  seen  of  the  two,  I  never  could  discover 
that  an  Englishman  was  more  patient  under  the 
toothache  than  a  Frenchman. 

Now,  to  get  bruised  ribs  and  dislocated  shoul- 
ders in  practicing  flights  out  of  second  and  third 
storey  windows  I  should  understand  ;  an  accom- 
plishment of  that  kind  might  be  useful  in  case 


John  Bull,  Jr.  119 

of  fire  ;  but  to  what  end  does  all  the  bruising  of 
football  tend  ? 

The  game  of  football  itself  seems  to  be  the 
end,  and  "  not  a  means  to  an  end,"  as,  I  believe, 
Mr.  Matthew  Arnold  has  remarked. 


Yet,  behold  John  Bull,  junior,  on  the  football 
ground  !  The  hero  of  a  bad  cause,  but  for  all 
that  a  hero  ;  a  lusty  little  fellow,  fearless,  hardy, 
strong-knit,  iron-muscled,  and  mule-headed,  who, 
rather  than  let  go  a  ball  that  he  holds  firmly  in 
his  arms,  will  perform  feats  of  valor  ;  who, 
simply  to  pass  this  ball  between  two  goals,  will 
grovel  in  the  dust,  reckless  of  lacerated  shoulders, 
a  broken  rib  or  jaw-bone,  and  will  die  on  a  bed 
of  suffering  with  a  smile  upon  his  lips  if  he  can 
only  hear,  before  closing  his  eyes,  that  his  side 
has  won  the  game. 


Speaking  from  my  experience,  I  should  say 
that  at  gymnastic  exercises,  and  all  pastimes 
requiring  a  little  skill,  French  boys  are  more  than 
the  equals  of  John  Bull,  junior.  They  are  bet- 
ter at  leaping,  climbing,  and  wrestling.  As  for 
swimming,  ine  out  of  ten  French  boys  are  good 
swimmers.  They  do  not  want  to  emulate  Cap- 


120  John  Bull,  Jr. 

tain  Webb's  feats  when  they  grow  up,  because 
the  object  or  beauty  of  such  feats  as  his  has 
never  been  revealed  to  them. 

But  that  is  the  Englishman  all  through. 

Can  he  swim  well  ?  Then  he  must  straight- 
way swim  across  the  English  Channel ;  he  must 
outswim  his  fellow-creatures ;  he  must  be  the 
champion  of  the  world,  and  have  the  betting  in 
his  favor,  until  he  turns  his  gift  into  a  hobby, 
sets  off  on  it,  and,  to  the  entertainment  of  a  few 
Yankee  excursionists,  ends  by  being  drowned 
in  the  Niagara  Falls. 


As  for  the  savate,  the  cannc,  fencing,  which 
all  bring  the  wits  into  play  as  well  as  the  muscles, 
they,  even  the  last-named,  are  very  little  known 
or  practiced  in  England.  In  these  most  young 
Frenchmen  are  well  up,  and  as  for  gymnastic 
exercises  they  are  more  practiced  in  France  than 
in  England,  although  the  English  boy  fondly 
imagines  he  is  at  the  top  of  the  ladder  in  all 
matters  athletic. 


The  craze  for  athletics  has  inculcated  in 
English  boys  the  admiration  for  physical  strength. 
This  they  like  to  find  in  their  masters,  as  well 
as  firmness  of  mind. 


Jo/in  Hull,  Jr.  121 

It  is  not  necessary  that  masters  should  use 
the  former.  Not  by  any  means  ;  but  there  it  is, 
and  they  might  use  it. 

There  is  nothing  to  inspire  people  with  peace- 
ful dispositions  like  the  sight  of  a  good  display 
of  war  material. 

An  ex-colleague  of  mine  became  very  popular 
by  the  following  occurrence,  the  tale  of  which 
spread  through  the  school  like  wildfire. 

This  gentleman  used  to  teach  in  a  little  class- 
room that  led  to  the  playground.  One  day  a 
big  boy  of  seventeen  opened  the  door  from  the 
building,  coolly  crossed  the  room,  and  was  about 
to  open  the  door  opposite  to  let  himself  out, 
when  my  friend  caught  hold  of  him  by  the  collar, 
lifted  him  off  the  ground,  and,  to  the  stupefaction 
of  the  boys,  carried  him  back  through  the  room, 
as  he  would  have  a  dog  by  the  skin  of  his  neck, 
and  quietly  dropped  him  outside  the  door  he  had 
entered  by.  Not  a  word  was  uttered,  not  an 
Oh  !  not  an  AJi  !  The  performance,  if  I  remem- 
ber rightly,  terminated  somewhat  comically. 
The  boy  had  on  a  paper-collar,  which  remained 
as  a  trophy  in  the  master's  hands. 

It  was,  as  you  see,  a  case  of  eviction  vi  etarmis, 
by  the  force  of  arms. 


John  Bull,  Jr. 


XII. 

OLD  PUPILS. — ACQUAINTANCES  RENEWED. — LIVELY  RECOL- 
LECTIONS REVIVED.— IT  is  EASIER  TO  TEACH  FRENCH 
THAN  TO  LEARN  IT. — TESTIMONIAL  REFUSED  TO  A  FRENCH 
MASTER. — "  How  DE  DO  ?  " —  "  THAT'S  WHAT-D'YE-CALL 
HIM,  THE  FRENCH  MASTER." 

I  LIKE  meeting  old  pupils,  especially  those  who, 
I  am  vain  enough  to  think,  owe  to  me  a  little 
part  of  their  success  in  life. 

Others  have  greatly  improved  since  they  left 
school.  I  used  to  consider  them  hopelessly  stu- 
pid, and  now  I  see  them  able  to  speak  on  gen- 
eral topics  with  a  great  amount  of  common  sense. 
Though  they  were  not  fit  for  scnool,  they  are  fit 
for  the  world.  They  have  good  manners  and  are 
gentlemen. 

Some  you  cannot  recognize  with  their  "chim- 
ney-pots ";  some  will  take  no  notice  of  you. 

Some  will  come  and  shake  hands  with  you, 
and  make  a  tardy  acknowledgment  of  the  debt 
they  owe  you  ;  some  will  express  their  regret 
that  they  do  not  owe  you  more. 

Some  will  approach  you  diffidently,  and  with 
a  grin  : 


John  Bull,  Jr.  123 

"  How  do  you  do,  sir  ?  Don't  you  know  me  ? 
I  am  So-and-So." 

"  To  be  sure  I  do." 

"  Don't  you  remember  I  once  threw  a  paper 
ball  in  the  room,  and  it  fell  on  your  desk  by 
accident  ?  " 

"  To  be  sure.  And  don't  you  remember  what 
you  got  for  it  ? " 

"  Indeed  I  do.  But  that  was  an  accident,  you 
know,  sir." 

"  I  dare  say  it  was.  And  how  are  you  getting 
on  ?" 

"  Pretty  well.     I  am  in  a  bank." 

"  Adding  pounds,  shillings,  and  pence  ?  " 

"Yes — rather  slow  sport." 

"  Slow,  yes,  when  the  pounds,  shillings,  and 
pence  don't  belong  to  you." 

''  You  are  right,  sir." 

"Well,  you  might,  perhaps,  have  done  better 
for  yourself  ;  you  were  an  able  boy." 

"I  don't  know  about  that,  but  I  often  regret  I 
did  not  avail  myself  of  the  advantages  that  were 
offered  to  me." 

A  repentant  boy  is  always  a  sad  sight,  and  one 
to  be  shunned.  You  comfort  him,  wish  him  suc- 
cess, and  shake  hands. 


The  interest  you  have  taken  in  boys  at  school 


124  JoJin  J3ull,  Jr. 

is  put  to  a  severe  test  when  you  receive  a  letter 
like  the  following  : 

"  DEAR  SIR  : 

"  I  have  decided  on  doing  a  little  teaching 
while  my  father  is  trying  to  obtain  a  situa- 
tion for  me.  I  know  the  interest  you  have  al- 
ways taken  in  me  and  my  welfare,  and  I  write  to 
ask  if  you  will  kindly  give  me  a  testimonial  as  to 
my  ability  to  teach  French.  I  am  aware  that  I 
always  was,  and  am  still,  a  very  poor  French 
scholar,  so  that  i  can  ask  for  a  testimonial  from 
you  only  as  a  great  personal  favor  ;  but  I  hope 
you  will  not  refuse  me." 

After  thanking  me  for  past,  present,  and  fu- 
ture kindnesses,  he  subscribes  himself  "My  obe- 
dient and  grateful  pupil." 

This  boy,  having  heard  me  one  day  say  in 
class  that  it  was  easier  to  be  examiner  than  to  be 
examined,  had  probably  come  to  the  conclusion 
that  it  was  also  easier  to  teach  French  than  to 
learn  it. 

A  testimonial  from  me  could  have  but  very 
little  value  ;  still,  the  poor  boy  had  to  add  to  his 
experiences  that  it  was  easier  to  ask  for  one  than 
to  obtain  it. 


John  Bull,  Jr.  125 

Some  old  pupils  approach  you  with  a  patron- 
izing "  How  de  do  ? " 

When  asked  by  a  friend  who  it  was  they  had 
spoken  to,  they  replied  : 

"  Oh  !  that's  What-d'ye-call-him,  the  French 
master — a  rather  nice  fellow,  you  know." 

This  was  an  excuse  for  condescending  to  speak 
to  him. 

They  were  under  him  for  ten  years  only,  and 
they  could  hardly  be  expected  to  remember  his 


126  John  Bull,  Jr. 


XIII. 

DEBATING  SOCIETIES. — A  DISCUSSION  ON  THE  PERNICIOUS 
USE  OF  TOBACCO. — SCHOOL  MAGAZINES  IN  FRANCE  AND 
ENGLAND. — A  BUSINESS-LIKE  LITTLE  BRITON. — AN  IM- 
PORTANT RESOLUTION  PASSED  UNANIMOUSLY. — I  PERFORM 
AN  ENGLISHMAN'S  DUTY. 

LIKE  their  seniors  in  Great  Britain,  English  boys 
have  a  little  weakness  for  airing  their  virtuous 
sentiments  in  public,  and  the  school  debating 
societies  offer  them  ample  opportunity  of  giving 
them  full  play. 

I  was  once  present  at  a  debate  on  "  The  Use  of 
Tobacco."  Forty  young  fellows  from  seventeen 
to  nineteen  years  of  age  took  part  in  it.  I  never 
was  so  edified  in  my  life.  The  dear  boys  beat 
Alphonse  Karr  in  their  diatribes  against  the  use 
of  tobacco. 

"  Of  course,"  remarked  one  member,  "  it  is 
somewhat  pretentious  of  me  to  speak  of  tobacco, 
as,  I  am  happy  to  say,  I  have  no  experience  of 
it.  But  I  have  read  a  great  deal  on  the  subject, 
and  all  our  scientific  men  are  unanimous  in  con- 
demning the  use  of  this  baneful  plant." 


John  Bull,  Jr.  127 

"  The  Use  of  Tobacco  "  was  condemned  by  a 
show  of  hands,  nem.  con. 

It  would  be  wicked  to  suppose  that  any 
member  had  a  little  book  of  "  Persian  Rice  " 
paper,  and  half  an  ounce  of  "  Straight  Cut "  in  his 
pocket,  wouldn't  it  ? 


Our  school  magazine,  edited  by  the  boys,  is  a 
well-conducted  and  interesting  record  of  school 
events.  I  can  never  look  at  it,  printed  as  it  is 
on  beautiful  paper,  without  going  back  to  my 
school-days  in  France.  We  had  a.  magazine  of 
our  own,  too,  but  we  had  to  write  out  two  copies 
of  each  issue  ourselves,  and  keep  them  locked  in 
our  desks.  If  we  were  caught  reading  them  they 
were  confiscated,  and  we  were  punished.  In 
English  public  schools  the  masters  subscribe,  and 
not  uncommonly  write,  for  the  magazine.  The 
result  is  that,  in  England,  the  periodical  is  made 
up  of  wholesome  literary  essays,  poetry,  school 
news  and  anecdotes,  reports  of  athletic  and  other 
meetings,  etc.,  whereas,  in  France,  it  mainly  con- 
sists of  satires  against  the  college  and  caricatures 
of  the  masters. 


In  a  small  private  preparatory  school  where  I 
attended  for  a  short  time,  the  little  boys  (four- 


128  John  Bull,  Jr. 

teen  in  number)  one  day  resolved  to  start  a  mag- 
azine. I  was  asked  to  preside  at  the  meeting. 
Of  course  a  printed  paper  was  out  of  the  ques- 
tion, and  it  was  decided  at  the  meeting  that  each 
of  the  boys  would  write  it  out  in  turn.  Pres- 
ently a  true-born  little  Briton  proposed  that  an 
annual  dinner,  in  connection  with  the  paper, 
should  take  place.  As  it  was  doubtful  whether 
the  magazine  would  enjoy  life  very  long,  an 
amendment,  moved  by  another  business-like 
member,  was  seized  by  the  forelock,  to  the  effect 
that  the  annual  dinner  should  take  place  at  once, 
and  was  passed  unanimously.  The  discussion  of 
the  menu  was  then  entered  into,  strong  prefer- 
ence being  manifested  for  tarts  and  cream  and 
doughnuts.  I  most  solemnly  signed  the  minute 
of  the  previous  meeting,  and  retired  with  the 
feeling  that  I  had  performed  the  work  of  a  good 
British  citizen. 


John  £ull,  Jr.  129 


XIV. 

HOME,  SWEET  HOME!  —  BOYS'  OPINION  OF  THE  SEASIDE.— 
FRENCH  AND  ENGLISH  BEACHES. — WHO  is  HE  AT  HOME  ? 
WHAT  WAS  His  GRANDFATHER  ?  —  REMARKS  ON  SWAG- 
GERING.—  "  I  THOUGHT  HE  WAS  A  GENTLEMAN." 

I  SHOULD  like  to  echo  the  sentiments  of  many 
schoolboys  on  the  subject  of  the  place  chosen  by 
their  parents  for  their  Midsummer  holidays. 

As  a  rule,  parents  think  themselves  in  duty- 
bound  to  take  their  boys  to  the  seaside  for  these 
holidays. 

In  the  case  of  people  occupying  "  desirable  " 
residences  in  London,  this  is  sensible  enough. 

But  boys  who  live  in  the  country  generally  re- 
gret to  hear  that  they  will  not  be  allowed  to  spend 
most  of  the  holiday-time  at  home,  in  the  midst 
of  all  their  o\vn  belongings.  They  would  pre- 
fer building  houses  for  their  rabbits,  enjoying  the 
favorite  walks  of  their  childhood  ;  rowing  on  the 
neighboring  river  with  their  friends,  even  if  they 
have  to  put  up,  in  the  evening,  with  the  incon- 
venience of  having  to  hear  their  sisters  play  the 
piano — a  kind  of  inconvenience  to  which  we  are 
all  subject  nowadays.  <• 


130  John  JSully  Jr. 

But  no  ;  they  are  packed  off  to  lodgings  at  the 
seaside  ;  and  they  think  that  the  sight  of  the  sea 
and  a  few  fishing-boats  do  not  make  up  for  rick- 
ety chairs,  springless  sofas,  empty  rooms,  cheer- 
less walls,  beds  stuffed  with  pebbles  from  the 
beach,  and  the  loss  of  all  home  comforts  and 
associations. 


If,  as  is  the  case  in  France,  these  boys  were 
allowed  to  mix  with  those  they  meet  on  the 
beach,  and  get  up  parties  with  them,  life  might 
be  made  supportable  ;  but,  obliged  as  they  are 
to  keep  to  themselves,  or  to  the  company  of 
their  brothers  and  sisters  (some  have  none),  they 
think  it  was  not  necessary  to  come  so  far  in 
search  of  boredom. 


French  and  English  beaches  illustrate  best  to 
my  mind  the  way  in  which  the  two  nations  take 
their  pleasures. 

The  French  seem  to  set  out  for  their  holiday 
with  a  thorough  determination  to  enjoy  them- 
selves. When  they  go  to  the  seaside  they  go 
there  on  pleasure  bound. 

On  French  beaches  every  body  makes  acquaint- 
ance ;  the  children  play  together  under  the  eyes 


John  Bull,  Jr.  131 

of  happy  papas  and  mammas,  the  grown-up  ones 
go  out  in  large  parties  bathing,  boating,  and 
fishing;  and  in  the  evening  all  meet  at  the  Ca- 
sino, where  there  are  ball-rooms,  concert-rooms, 
reading  and  smoking  rooms,  etc.  No  doubt 
many  of  the  people  you  mix  with  there  are  not 
such  as  you  would  wish  to  invite  to  your  house  on 
a  visit,  but,  the  season  over,  these  friends  of  a 
day  are  forgotten,  and  there  remains  the  benefit 
to  health  and  spirits  from  a  thorough  merry 
time. 

In  the  English  seaside  resort,  every  bather 
looks  askance  at  his  fellow. 

"Who  is  he  at  home  ?"  or  "What  was  his 
grandfather  ?"  are  questions  that  he  must  get 
satisfactorily  answered  before  he  associates  with 
him  ;  and  rather  than  run  the  risk  of  frequenting 
the  company  of  persons  of  inferior  blood  he  is 
often  bored  to  death  with  the  monotony  of  the 
life,  and  is  glad  when  it  is  time  to  take  the  chil- 
dren back  to  school  or  his  own  occupations  call 
him  away  from  the  sea. 

Dear  British  parents,  if  you  have  a  garden  and 
fields  near  your  house,  and  you  would  like  to 
make  your  boys  happy,  call  them  home  for  the 
holidays. 


Apart  from  the  aristocracy,  it  has  always  been 


132  John  Bull,  Jr. 

a  subject  of  wonder  tome  that  caste  should  be  so 
strong  among  the  middle  classes,  in  a  country 
like  England,  who  owes  her  greatness  to  her  com- 
mercial and  adventurous  spirit. 

In  France,  what  is  required  of  a  gentleman  is 
high  education  and  refined  nanners.  A  peas- 
ant's son  possessing  these  is  received  in  any 
society. 

In  England,  boys  begin  swaggering  about  their 
social  position  as  soon  as  they  leave  the  nursery, 
and  if  you  would  have  some  fun,  you  should  fol- 
low groups  of  public  school-boys  in  the  play- 
ground or  on  their  way  home. 

Of  course,  in  public  schools,  the  occupation  of 
parents  cannot  be  an  objection  to  their  sons' 
admission,  and  in  your  class-room  you  may  have 
dukes'  and  saloon-keepers'  sons  sitting  on  the  same 
form.  These  are  treated  on  an  equal  footing  ; 
although  I  believe  the  head-master  of  a  working 
public  school  would  prefer  the  hangman's  son, 
if  a  clever  lad,  to  the  son  of  a  duke,  if  he  were 
a  fool. 

Yes,  those  groups  will  afford  you  a  great  deal 
of  amusement. 

Here  are  the  sons  of  professional  men,  of  offi- 
cers, clergymen,  barristers.  See  them  pointing 
out  other  boys  passing :  "  Sons  of  merchants, 
don't  you  know!" 

These  are  not  without   their   revenge,  as  they 


John  Bull,  Jr.  133 

look  at  a  group  close  by:  "Sons   of  clerks,  you 
know  ! " 

But  you  should  see  the  contemptuous  glance 
of  the  latter  as  they  pass  the  sons  of  shopkeepers: 
"  Tradespeople's  sons,  I  believe  ! " 


Here  is  a  little  sample  conversation  I  caught 
as  I  passed  two  boys  watching  a  game  of  cricket 
in  the  playground. 

"  Clever  chap,  So-and-So  !  "  said  one. 

"  And  a  nice  fellow  too,  isn't  he  ?"  said  the 
other. 

"  By-the-bye,  did  you  know  his  father  was  a 
chemist  ?  " 

"  A  chemist  !  No  !  "  exclaimed  the  dear  boy 
in  a  subdued  tone,  as  if  the  news  had  taken  his 
breath  away.  "  A  chemist  !  you  don't  mean  to 
say  so.  What  mistakes  we  are  liable  to  make, 
to  be  sure  !  I  always  thought  he  was  a  gentle- 
man." 


134  John  Bull,  Jr. 


XV. 

HE  CAN  NOT  SPEAK  FRENCH,  BUT  HE  CAN  READ  IT,  YOU 
KNOW. — HE  HAS  A  TRY  AT  IT  IN  PARIS.— NASAL  SOUNDS 
AND  ACCENTED  SYLLABLES. — How  I  REDUCED  ENGLISH 
WORDS  TO  SINGLE  SYLLABLES,  AND  WAS  SUCCESSFUL  IN 
THE  OBJECT  i  HAD  IN  VIEW. — A  REMARK  ON  THE  CONNEC- 
TION OF  WORDS. 

WHEN  you  ask  an  Englishman  whether  he  can 
speak  French,  he  generally  answers  : 

"I  can  read  it,  you  know." 

"Aloud!"  you  inquire,  with  a  significant 
smile. 

"  Well,"  he  says,  "  I  have  never  had  much 
practice  in  reading  French  aloud.  I  mean  to  say 
that  I  can  understand  what  I  read.  Of  course, 
now  and  then  I  come  across  a  word  that  I  am 
not  quite  sure  about,  but  I  can  get  on,  you 
know." 

"  I  suppose  you  manage  to  make  yourself 
understood  in  France." 

"  Oh  !  very  little  French  is  required  for  that  ; 
I  always  go  to  the  English  hotels." 

He  always  does  so  on  the  Continent,  because 
these  hotels  are  the  only  ones  that  can  provide 
him  with  English  comfort. 


John  Bull,  Jr.  135 

When  he  starts  for  Paris  he  gets  on  capitally 
till  he  reaches  Calais.  There  he  assumes  his  in- 
sular stiffness,  which  we  Continental  people  take 
for  arrogance,  but  is,  in  reality,  only  dignified 
timidity. 

Arrived  at  the  Gare  du  Nord,  he  takes  a  cab 
and  goes  to  one  of  the  hotels  in  the  Rue  Saint 
Honore  or  the  Rue  de  Rivoli. 

The  first  time  he  reached  one  of  these 
lishments,  he  tripped  on  getting  out  of  his  cab, 
and  fell  on  the  pavement.  The  porter  helped 
him  up  and  asked  him  : 

"  Avez-vous  du  mal,  monsieur  ?  " 

He  thought  the  porter  took  him  for  a  French- 
man, and  he  prepared  to  answer  in  French.  Be- 
lieving he  was  asked  if  "  he  had  two  trunks,"  he 
answers  : 

"  No,  only  a  portmanteau." 

After  this  first  success,  he  thought  he  would 
air  his  French. 

"  Gaarfon  !  "  he  calls  ;  "j'ai/aim." 

He  pronounces  this  quite  perfectly,  so  perfectly 
that  the  waiter,  understanding  that  he  is  married, 
informs  him  that  he  can  have  apartments  ready 
for  Madame. 

"  He  is  obstinate  and  will  have  another   shot : 

"  Je  suis  fameux,  gaarfon  !  " 

The  waiter  bows  respectfully. 

This  won't  do,  dear  fellow;  try  again. 

"  Jc  suis  fern  me  /  "  he  yells. 


•136  John  Bull,  Jr. 

This  staggers  the  waiter. 

It  is  time  to  inquire  of  him  if  he  speaks  Eng- 
lish. 

"  Can  you  speak  English  ?  " 

"  Oh  yes,  sir." 

Our  traveler  is  all  right  again,  but  he  thinks 
that  those  confounded  French  people  have  a 
queer  manner  of  pronouncing  their  own  lan- 
guage. 


With  the  exception  of  our  nasal  sounds,  which 
I  know  are  stumbling-blocks  to  Englishmen — 
who  will  always  insist  on  calling  our  great  music 
composer  and  pianist  Saint-Saens,  "  Sang  Songs  " 
— I  never  could  understand  that  the  difficulty 
of  our  pronunciation  was  insuperable.  Our 
vowels  are  bold,  well-marked,  always  sounded 
the  same,  and,  except  u,  like  the  English  vowels, 
or  so  nearly  like  them  that  they  can  not  prevent 
an  Englishman  from  understanding  French  and 
speaking  it. 

The  greatest  mistake  he  makes  is  in  not  bear- 
ing in  mind  that  the  accent  should  always  be  laid 
on  the  last  syllable,  or  on  the  last  but  one  if  the 
word  ends  in  e  mute.  How  much  easier  this  is 
to  remember  than  the  place  of  the  English  ac- 
cented syllable,  which  varies  constantly  !  In 
admirable,  you  have  it  on  the  first  ;  in  admire* 


John  Bull,  Jr.  137 

on  the  second  ;  in  admiration,  on  the  third.  On 
the  contrary,  no  difficulty  about  the  pronuncia- 
tion of  the  three  French  words,  admirable,  ad- 
mirer, and  admiration  ;  the  tonic  accent  falls  on 
the  last  sound  syllable  in  every  case. 


The  less  educated  a  man  is  the  more  stress  he 
lays  on  the  accented  syllables  ;  and  you  find 
the  lower  classes  of  a  country  lay  such  emphasis 
on  these  syllables  that  they  almost  pronounce 
nothing  else.  Being  unable  to  make  myself  un- 
derstood when  pronouncing  whole  English  words, 
I  have  often  tried  to  use  only  the  accented  syl- 
lables when  speaking  to  the  lower  class  people  of 
England;  in  every  attempt  I  have  been  successful. 

I  obtained  a  basket  of  strawberries  in  Coven  t 
Garden  Market  by  asking  for  a  "  bask  of  strawbs." 

A  lower  class  Yankee  will  understand  few 
Frenchmen  who  speak  to  him  of  America ;  but 
he  will  understand  them  if  they  speak  to  him  of 
Merk, 

*  * 

The  greatest  defect  in  an  Englishman's  pro- 
nunciation of  French  is  generally  in  the  wrong 
connection  of  words  between  which  there  is  no 
pause. 


138  John  Jltill,  Jr. 

The  final  consonant  of  a  word,  followed  by 
another  beginning  with  a  vowel  or  h  mute,  should 
be  pronounced  as  if  it  belonged  to  the  latter 
word.  An  Englishman  sounds  ses  amis  as  if  it 
was  seize  amis.  He  should  say  :  "  se  samis." 

"  Mon  ami  est  a  Paris  "="  Mo  nami  e  ta  Paris." 

Perhaps  the  following  remark  on  the  separation 
of  syllables  may  fix  the  rule  : 

The  English  say  :  mag-nan-im-ity. 

The  French  say  :  ma-gna-ni-mi-te. 


You  see,  dear  reader,  how  difficult  it  is  to  re- 
frain from  talking  "  shop,"  when  one  has  been  a 
schoolmaster. 


John  Bull,  Jr.  139 


XVI. 


PUBLIC  SCHOOL  SCHOLARSHIPS  AND  EXHIBITIONS. — GRATE- 
FUL PARENTS. — INQUIRING  MOTHERS. — A  DEAR  LITTLE 
CANDIDATE. — LADIES'  TESTIMONIALS.— A  SCIENCE  MASTEB 
WELL  RECOMMENDED. 


IT  seems  strange  that  in  a  democratic  country, 
overburdened  with  school-rates,  free  education 
should  be  offered  in  the  public  schools  to  the 
children  of  the  well-to-do  and  even  wealthy 
people.  To  give  opportunities  to  those  who 
have  clever  children  and  cannot  afford  to  pay 
for  their  education,  such  was  the  spirit  which 
dictated  the  foundation  of  scholarships  and 
exhibitions  in  the  public  schools,  which  schools 
are  under  the  supervision  of  the  Charity  Com- 
missioners. 

The  Charity  Commissioners  !  The  organizers 
of  that  well-ordered  British  charity  which  begins 
at  home  ! 

But  all  this  again  does  not  concern  me.  If  it 
did,  I  should  say  to  gentlemen  enjoying  revenues 
of  ^"700,  ^800,  and  ^£1,000  a  year  :  "  My  dear 
sirs,  you  can  afford  to  pay  school  fees  for  your 
children  ;  please  to  leave  these  scholarships  to 
your  less  fortunate  countrymen." 


140  John  Bull,  Jr. 

My  diary  contains  a  few  recollections  about 
foundation  scholars  and  their  parents  which 
suggested  the  foregoing  remarks  to  me.  Pardon 
me  for  having  given  them  a  place  here. 


I  have  always  noticed  that  the  parents  of 
foundation  scholars  are  much  more  troublesome 
and  exacting  than  those  who  pay  their  twenty  or 
thirty  pounds  a  year  to  the  school  for  their  sons' 
tuition  fees. 

The  school  is  their  property,  the  masters  their 
servants,  and  when  complaints  are  lodged  with 
the  authorities  you  may  be  sure  they  come  from 
them. 

They  imagine,  for  instance,  that  the  school 
ought  to  provide  the  boys  with  books,  and  think 
it  very  hard  that  they  should  be  called  upon  to 
pay  for  them.  When  their  sons  are  ordered  to 
get  a  new  book,  they  generally  take  a  fortnight 
to  obtain  it. 

"  Where  is  your  book  ?  "  you  say  to  a  scholar 
you  see  looking  at  his  neighbor's. 

"  Please,  sir,  it  has  not  come  yet  ;  I  have  or- 
dered it  at  the  stores." 

Two  weeks  later  the  book  makes  its  appear- 
ance. 

When  the  boys  raise  subscriptions  for  their 
sports,  which  ought  to  be  supported  especially 


John  J3ull,  Jr.  141 

by  those  who  owe  a  debt  of  gratitude  to  the 
school,  or  for  a  testimonial  got  up  in  favor  of  a 
retiring  master,  or  in  memory  of  a  celebrated  old 
pupil,  the  fe\v  recalcitrants  are  invariably  to  be 
found  among  the  free  scholars. 


Our  boys  one  day  decided  on  founding  a  little 
literary  society.  As  a  few  periodicals  were  to  be 
bought  and  other  little  expenses  incurred,  their 
committee  passed  a  resolution  that  an  annual 
subscription  of  five  shillings  should  be  demanded 
of  the  members. 

A  father  immediately  wrote  to  the  young  pres- 
ident of  the  new  society,  asking  if  it  was  com- 
pulsory for  his  boy  to  join  the  society,  as  he  did 
not  see  the  force  of  paying  five  shillings  for  what, 
he  thought,  his  boy  was  entitled  to  enjoy  for 
nothing.  The  pater  received  his  due  by  return 
of  post.  The  president  of  the  society  answered: 

"DEAR  SIR: 

"  Your  son  is  not  at  all  compelled  to  join 
our  society.  The  subscription  of  five  shillings 
was  decided  upon  simply  to  keep  our  meetings 
select." 


-The  Englishman  has  a  supreme  contempt  for 


142  John  Bull,  Jr. 

what  is  cheap.  It  is  in  his  nature.  He  cannot 
understand  that  there  is  any  value  in  what  he  has 
not  to  pay  for. 

I  cannot  forget  the  time  when  a  young  lunatic 
hanged  himself  at  Christ's  Hospital,  and  the 
plethora  of  letters  that  were  sent  to  the  papers  by 
parents  who  seemed  to  be  anxious  to  seize  the 
opportunity  of  trying  to  bring  discredit  on  that 
splendidly  conducted  school,  one  of  the  most 
interesting  philanthropic  institutions  in  England. 

A  father,  sheltering  himself  behind  a  pseu- 
donym, went  the  length  of  writing  to  the  Daily 
News  to  say  that  he  had  had  three  sons 
educated  at  Christ's  Hospital,  but  that  he 
thanked  God  he  had  not  any  more  to  send 
there. 

The  Governors  of  Christ's  Hospital  spend  ^60 
a  year  upon  each  blue-coat  boy.  The  three  sons 
of  this  "  indignant "  father  therefore  cost  the 
Hospital  something  like  ^£2,000. 

What  respect  this  man  would  have  felt  for  the 
school  if  the  money  had  been  drawn  out  of  his 
own  pocket  in  the  shape  of  capitation  fees ! 


The  following  conversation  once  took  place 
between  a  lady  and  the  head  master  of  a  great 
public  school  : 

"  I  have  a  little  boy  eleven  years  old,"  said 


John  Bull,  Jr.  143 

the  lady,  "  whom  my  husband  is  anxious  to  have 
educated  here.  He  is  a  very  clever  little  fellow. 
We  have  heard  that,  on  leaving  the  school  to  go 
to  one  of  the  two  great  universities,  some  boys 
received  exhibitions  varying  in  value  from  ;£8o 
to  ;£ioo  a  year  for  four  years.  Do  you  think, 
sir,  that  our  son  would  get  one,  for  the  probabil- 
ity of  his  obtaining  such  an  exhibition  would  be 
a  great  inducement  to  us  to  trust  the  boy  to  your 
care  ?  " 

"  Well,"  replied  the  head-master,  with  great 
command  over  his  countenance,  "  I  am  afraid  I 
cannot  commit  myself  to  any  such  promise." 

The  lady  retired.  Her  promising  son  was 
probably  sent  to  a  more  accommodating  school. 


The  same  head-master  once  received  the  visit 
of  a  man  who  asked  him  point-blank  if  the  schol- 
arship examinations  were  conducted  honestly, 
or,  in  other  words,  if  the  scholarships  were  given 
according  to  merit. 

From  the  answer  he  received  he  deemed  it  ex- 
pedient to  beat  a  speedy  retreat. 


When  a  school  has  to  offer,  say,  six  scholar- 
ships  to   the  public,  and  there  are  a  hundred 


144  John  Bull,  Jr. 

candidates  applying  for  them,  you  may  easily 
imagine  that  it  is  difficult  to  persuade  the  parents 
of  the  ninety-four  boys  who  fail  that  the  schol- 
arships are  given  according  to  merit. 

In  distributing  six  scholarships  among  a  hun- 
dred candidates  you  make  six  ungrateful  fathers 
and  ninety-four  discontented  ones. 


Whilst  our  school  was  being  rebuilt  in  another 
part  of  the  metropolis,  a  loving  mother  called  on 
the  head-master  in  the  City  to  intimate  her  in- 
tention of  placing  her  little  boy  in  the  school  as 
soon  as  the  new  building  would  be  finished,  and 
also  to  ask  if  she  would  be  allowed  to  see  the 
room  in  which  her  dear  child  would  be  taught. 

It  was  a  great  pity  the  building  was  not  ad- 
vanced enough  at  the  time  to  permit  of  her  secur- 
ing a  corner  for  "  her  darling  pet." 


The  mother  to  be  most  dreaded  is  the  one 
whose  husband  has  left  her  for  India,  or  some 
other  warm  climate.  She  is  restless,  inquisitive, 
and  never  satisfied.  Each  remark  you  make  to 
her  son  brings  her  on  the  school  premises  for  in- 
quiries. She  writes  letter  upon  letter,  pays  visit 
upon  visit. 


John  J5ull,  Jr.  145 

Once  a  week  her  son  brings  you  a  little  note 
in  the  following  style  : 

"  Mrs.  X.  presents  her  compliments  to  Mr. 
So-and-so,  and  begs  that  her  son  may  be  excused 
for  not  having  prepared  his  lesson,  as  he  had  a 
bad  headache  last  night." 

A  husband  may  be  a  nuisance  in  a  house,  but 
when  I  was  a  schoolmaster  I  always  thought  he 
was  a  great  improvement  to  it. 


(///  the  Examination  Room!) 

Sometimes  parents  send  up  their  sons  for 
scholarship  examinations  with  very  little  lug- 
gage. 

I  remember  a  dear  little  boy,  between  ten  and 
eleven,  who  was  a  candidate  for  one  of  our  va- 
cant scholarships. 

On  reaching  the  seat  that  was  assigned  to  him, 
he  was  provided  with  the  Latin  paper  by  the 
school  secretary,  and  presented  with  half  a  ream 
of  beautiful  writing  paper  for  his  answers. 

We  thought  he  did  not  appear  very  busy,  and 
presently,  as  I  came  up  to  him,  I  spoke  ?.  few 
kind  words  and  gave  him  a  little  pat  on  the 
back. 

"  Well,  how  are  you  getting  on  ?  "  I  said. 

"  Please,  sir,  I  can't  do   this  paper.     I  don't 


146  John  Bull,  Jr. 

know  what  it  is  about,"  he  said,  looking  at  me 
as  if  for  help. 

"  Don't  you  know  any  Latin  ?  "  I  inquired. 

"  Yes,  sir  ;    I  know  my  first  two  declensions." 

"  Is  that  all  the  Latin  you  know  ? " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  I  suppose  you  won't  take  up  Greek,  will 
you  ? " 

"  I  expect  I  had  better  not,  sir,  as  I  have 
never  learned  any,"  he  replied,  with  his  eyes  half 
out  of  their  sockets.  "Is  it  difficult,  ?  sir"  he 
suggested,  thinking  I  was  not  looking  satisfied 
with  his  answer. 

"  Not  very,"  I  replied  ;  "but  if  I  were  you  I 
would  not  have  my  first  try  at  it  to-day." 

"  Thank  you,  sir,"  said  my  little  friend. 

"  Do  you  know  any  French  ? "  I  then  asked. 

"  Please,  sir,  mamma  taught  me  a  few  sen- 
tences." 

"  Well,  let  me  hear." 

"  Please,  sir,  I  know  Quelle  heure  est-ill  and 
Comment  vous  portez-vous  ?  " 

"  Any  grammar  ?  " 

"  No,  sir." 

"  Don't  you  know  the  French  for  /  shall 
have?  " 

"  No,  sir,  I  don't  think  I  do." 

"  Do  you  know  any  mathematics  ?" 

"  Do  you  mean  arithmetic,  sir  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  do," 


John  Bull,  Jr.  147 

"  Please,  sir,  I  can  do  addition,  subtraction, 
multiplication,  and  short  division." 

"  I  suppose  you  will  try  the  English  subjects. 
Do  you  know  any  English  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  can  speak  English,"  he  said,  look- 
ing at  me  with  surprise. 

"Of  course  you  can,"  I  replied;  "but  you 
know  some  history,  I  suppose.  Have  you  ever 
read  any  English  history  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,  1  have  read  '  Robinson  Crusoe."' 

"  Well,  well,  my  poor  boy,  I  am  afraid  you 
have  not  much  chance  of  getting  a  scholarship." 

''Haven't  I?"  said  the  dear  child,  and  he 
burst  into  tears.  Then  he  handed  me  a  letter, 
which  was  addressed  to  the  head-master. 

It  was  a  supplication  from  his  mother.  Her 
little  boy  was  very  clever,  she  said,  and  she  hoped 
he  would  not  be  judged  by  what  he  actually  knew, 
but  by  what  she  was  sure  he  would  be  able  to  learn 
if  admitted  into  the  school. 

Poor  child  !  we  comforted  him  as  well  as  we 
could,  and  sent  him  back  to  his  mamma.  He 
was  very  miserable. 

*  * 

Ladies  are  sometimes  great  at  testimonials, 
and  they  must  think  it  very  -ungentlemanly  of 
men  not  to  favor  their  candidates. 

When  our  head  science  mastership  was  vacant, 
over  a  hundred  applications  were  lodged  with 


148  John  Bull,  Jr. 

the  head-master  for  his  consideration.  I  remem- 
ber that  among  the  candidates  there  was  one 
who  was  only  provided  with  a  single  testimonial, 
and  this  from  a  lady  (an  old  lady,  I  imagine). 
The  testimonial  was  to  the  effect  that  "she  had 
known  Mr.  P.  for  many  years.  He  was  a  good 
and  steady  young  man,  and  she  knew  he  was 
very  fond  of  science."  f 

This  testimonial  failed  to  secure  the  appoint- 
ment for  its  owner. 


John  Bull,  Jr.  149 


XVII. 

THE  ORIGIN  OF  ANGLOMANIA  AND  ANGLOPHOBIA  IN  ENG- 
LAND.— A  TYPICAL  FRENCHMAN. — Too  MUCH  OF  AN 
ENGLISHMAN. — A  REMARKABLE  FRENCH  MASTER. — JOHN 

BULL  MADE  TO  GO  TO  CHURCH  BY  A  FRENCHMAN. — A 

NOBLE  AND  THANKLESS  CAREER.— A  PLACE  OF  LEARNING. 
— Moxs.  AND  ESQUIRE. — ALL  LADIES  AND  GENTLEMEN. — 
ONE  EXCEPTION. — WONDERFUL  ADDRESSES. 

THE  French  in  England  are  of  two  sorts,  those 
who,  by  their  intelligence,  industry,  and  per- 
severance, have  succeeded  in  building  up  an 
honorable  position  for  themselves,  and  those 
who,  by  the  lack  of  these  qualities,  vegetate  there 
as  they  would  be  pretty  sure  to  do  anywhere. 

The  former  do  not  all  love  the  land  of  their 
adoption,  but  they  all  respect  it.  The  latter, 
unwilling  to  lay  their  poverty  at  their  own  door, 
throw  the  blame  upon  England  for  not  having 
understood  them,  and  they  have  not  a  good 
word  to  say  for  her.  It  never  occurred  to  them 
that  it  was  theirs  to  study  and  understand  Eng- 
land, and  that  England  is  not  to  be  blamed  for 
not  having  studied  them  and  changed  her  ways 
to  accommodate  them. 


150  John  Bull,  Jr. 

They  never  part  with  a  shilling  without  re- 
marking that  for  a  penny  they  would  be  able  to 
obtain  the  same  value  in  France.  You  often 
wonder  how  it  is  they  stick  to  this  country  in- 
stead of  honoring  their  own  with  their  presence. 


I  have  always  been  an  admirer  of  that  worthy 
Frenchman  who  carries  his  patriotism  to  the 
extent  of  buying  all  his  clothing  in  France.  He 
declares  it  impossible  to  wear  English  garments, 
and  almost  impossible  to  wear  out  French  ones. 
Besides,  he  does  not  see  why  he  should  not  give 
his  country  the  benefit  of  some  of  the  guineas  he 
has  picked  up  over  here.  Like  every  child  of 
France,  he  has  the  love  of  good  linen,  and 
according  to  him  the  article  is  only  to  be  found 
in  Paris. 

So  he  goes  about  in  his  narrow-brimmed  hat, 
and  turned-down  collar  fastened  low  in  the  neck, 
and  finished  off  with  a  tiny  black  tie,  a  large 
expanse  of  shirt-front,  and  boots  with  high  heels 
and  pointed  toes.  As  he  goes  along  the  street, 
he  hears  people  whisper  :  "  There's  a  French- 
man ! "  But,  far  from  objecting  to  that,  he 
rather  likes  it,  and  he  is  right. 

He  speaks  bad  English,  and  assures  you  that 
you  require  very  few  words  to  make  yourself 
understood  of  the  people.  He  does  not  go  .so 


John  Bull,  Jr.  151 

far  as  Figaro,  but  his  English  vocabulary  is  of 
the  most  limited. 

Without  making  any  noise  about  it,  he  sends 
his  guinea  to  all  the  French  Benevolent  Societies 
in  England,  and  wherever  the  tricolor  floats  he 
is  of  the  party. 

He  likes  the  English,  and  recognizes  their 
solid  qualities  ;  but  as  he  possesses  many  of  his 
own,  he  keeps  to  his  native  stock. 


How  this  good  Frenchman  does  shine  by  the 
side  of  another  type,  a  type  which,  I  am  happy 
to  say,  is  rare — the  one  who  drops  his  country. 

The  latter,  when  he  speaks  of  England,  says  : 
"  We  do  this,  we  do  that,  in  England,"  not  "The 
English  do  this,  the  English  do  that."  He  would 
like  to  say,  "We  English,"  but  he  hardly  dares 
go  that  length. 

He  dresses  &  I'anglaise  with  a  vengeance, 
makes  it  a  point  to  frequent  only  English  houses, 
and  spends  a  good  deal  of  his  time  in  running 
down  his  compatriots. 

He  does  not  belong  to  any  of  the  French 
societies  or  clubs  in  England.  These  establish- 
ments, however,  do  not  miss  him  much  more 
than  his  own  country. 

I  once  knew  one  of  this  category.  His  name 
ended  with  an  e  mute  preceded  by  a  double  con- 


152  John  Bull,  Jr. 

sonant.  The  e  mute  was  a  real  sore  to  him,  the 
grief  of  his  life.  Without  it  he  might  have 
passed  for  English.  It  was  too  provoking  to  be 
thus  balked,  and,  as  he  signed  his  name,  he  would 
dissimulate  the  poor  offending  little  vowel,  so 
that  his  name  should  appear  to  end  at  the  double 
consonant. 

He  was  not  a  genius. 


Acting  under  the  theory  of  Figaro,  "  Qu't'l 
n'est  pas  ndcessaire  de  tenir  les  chases  pour  en 
raisonner"  I  have  heard  an  Englishman,  engaged 
in  teaching  French,  maintain  that  it  was  not 
necessary  to  be  able  to  speak  the  French  language 
to  teach  it. 

On  the  other  hand,  I  once  heard  an  eminent 
Frenchman  hold  that  the  less  English  a  French 
master  knew  the  more-fit  he  was  to  teach  French. 

Both  gentlemen  begged  their  audience  to 
understand  that  they  made  their  statements  on 
their  own  sole  responsibility. 


I  never  met  a  French  master  who  had  made 
his  fortune,  nor  have  you,  I  imagine. 

I  once  met  in  England  a  French  master  who 
had  not  written  a  French  grammar. 


John  Bull,  Jr.  153 

I  was  one  day  introduced  to  a  Frenchman  who 
keeps  a  successful  school  in  the  Midland  coun- 
ties. He  makes  it  a  rule  to  sternly  refuse  to  let 
his  boys  go  home  in  the  neighboring  town 
before  one  o'clock  on  Sundays.  When  parents 
ask  him  as  a  special  favor  to  allow  their  sons  to 
come  to  their  house  on  Saturday  night  or  early 
on  Sunday  morning,  he  answers  :  "  I  am  sorry  I 
cannot  comply  with  your  request.  It  has  come 
to  my  knowledge  that  there  are  parents  who  do 
not  insist  on  their  children  going  to  church,  and 
I  cannot  allow  any  of  my  pupils  to  go  home 
before  they  have  attended  divine  service." 

Johu  Bull  made  to  go  to  church  by  a  French- 
man !  The  idea  was  novel,  and  I  thought  ex- 
tremely funny. 


To  teach  "  the  art  of  speaking  and  writing  the 
French  language  correctly"  is  a  noble  but  thank- 
less career  in  England. 

In  France,  the  Government  grants  a  pension 
to,  and  even  confers  the  Legion  of  Honor  upon, 
an  English  master*  after  he  has  taught  his  lan- 
guage in  a.  lycee  for  a  certain  number  of  years. 

*  Among  the  nominations  in  the  Legion  of  Honor, 
published  on  the  I4th  of  July,  1884,  I  noticed  the  name  of 
the  English  master  (an  Englishman)  in  the  lycie  of  Bor- 
deaux. 


154  John  JButl,  Jr. 

The  Frenchman  who  has  taught  French  in 
England  all  his  lifetime  is  allowed,  when  he  is 
done  for,  to  apply  at  the  French  Benevolent  So- 
ciety for  a  free  passage  to  France,  where  he  may 
go  and  die  quietly  out  of  sight. 


If  you  look  at  the  advertisements  published 
daily  in  the  "  educational "  columns  of  the 
papers,  you  may  see  that  compatriots  of  mine 
give  private  lessons  in  French  at  a  shilling  an 
hour,  and  teach  the  whole  language  in  24  or  26 
lessons.  Why  not  25  ?  I  always  thought  there 
must  be  something  cabalistic  about  the  number 
26.  These  gentlemen  have  to  wear  black  coats 
and  chimney-pots.  How  can  they  do  it  if  their 
wives  do  not  take  in  mangling  ? 

Mystery. 


In  a  southern  suburb  of  London,  I  remember 
seeing  a  little  house  covered,  like  a  booth  at  a 
fair,  with  boards  and  announcements  that  spoke 
to  the  passer-by  of  all  the  wonders  to  be  found 
within. 

On  the  front-door  there  was  a  plate  with  the 
inscription  : 

"  Mons.  D.,  of  the  University  of  France." 

Now  Englishmen  who  address  Frenchmen  as 


John  Bull,  Jr.  155 

"Mons."*  should  be  forgiven.  They  unsuccess- 
fully aim  at  doing  a  correct  thing.  But  a  French- 
man dubbing  himself  "Mons."  publishes  a  certi- 
ficate of  his  ignorance. 

The  house  was  a  double-fronted  one. 

On  the  right  window  there  was  the  inscription  : 

"  French  Classes  for  Ladies." 
On  the  left  one  : 

"  French  Classes  for  Gentlemen." 

The  sexes  were  separated  as  at  the  Turkish 
Baths. 

On  a  huge  board,  placed  over  the  front  door,  I 
read  the  following : 

"French  Classes  for  Ladies  and  Gentlemen. 
Greek,  Latin,  and  Mathematical  Classes. 
Art  and  Science  Department. 
Music,  Singing,  and  Dancing  taught. 
Private  Lessons  given,  families  waited  upon. 
Schools  attended. 
For  Terms  and  Curriculum,  apply  within." 

What  a  saving  of  trouble  and  expense  it  would 
have  been  to  this  living  encyclopaedia  if  he  had 
onfy  mentioned  what  he  did  not  teach  ! 

*  "  Mons.,   a   familiar   and  contemptuous   abbreviation 
of   Monsieur." — LlTTRE,     "  Dictionnaire    de   la    Langue 
" 


156  John  Bull,  Jr. 

Since  I  have  called  your  attention  to  the  ex- 
pression Mons.,  and  reminded  you  of  its  proper 
meaning,  never  send  a  letter  to  a  Frenchman 
with  the  envelope  addressed  as  Mons. 

I  know,  dear  American  reader,  that  you  never 
do.  But  you  have  friends.  Well,  tell  them  to 
write  Monsieur  in  full  ;  or,  as  cobblers  in  their 
back  parlors  are  now  addressed  as  Esquires, 
rather  confer  the  same  honor  upon  a  Frenchman. 
He  will  take  it  as  a  compliment. 

Democracy  is  making  progress  in  England. 
Where  is  the  time  when  only  land-owners,  bar- 
risters, graduates  of  the  Universities,  were 
addressed  as  Esquires? 

All  ladies  and  gentlemen  in  England  now. 


Not  all,  though. 

A  young  lady  friend,  who  visits  the  poor  in 
her  district,  called  one  day  at  a  humble  dwell- 
ing. 

She  knocked  at  the  door,  and  on  a  woman 
opening  it,  asked  to  see  Mrs. . 

"  Oh  !  very  well,"  said  the  woman,  and,  leav- 
ing the  young  lady  in  the  street,  she  went  inside, 
and  called  out  at  the  top  of  her  voice  : 

"  Ada,  tell  the  lady  on  the  second  floor  that  a 
young  person  from  the  district  wants  to  see  her." 


John  Bull,  Jr. 


'57 


Apropos  of  "  Esquire  "  I  should  like  to  take  the 
opportunity  of  paying  a  well-deserved  compliment 
to  the  Postal  Authorities  in  England. 

Some  eight  years  ago,  I  lived  in  the  Herbert 
Road,  Shooter's  Hill,  near  London. 

After  three  weeks  of  wonderful  peregrinations, 
a  letter,  addressed  in  the  following  manner,  duly 
reached  me  from  France  : 


Angleterre  Esquire 

Monsieur     

Erbet  Villa 

pres  Londres. 


My  dear  compatriot  had  heard  that "  Esquire  " 
had  to  be  put  somewhere,  or  else  the  letter  would 
not  reach  me. 


This  is  not  the  only  letter  addressed  to  me 
calculated  to  puzzle  the  postman. 

A  letter  was  once  brought  to  me  with  the  fol- 
lowing high-flown  inscription  : 


158  John  Bull,  Jr. 

"  Al  gentilissimo  cavaliere  professore 
Signer " 

But  what  is  even  this,  compared  to  the  one  I 
received  from  a  worthy  Bulgarian,  and  which 
was  addressed  to 

"  Monsieur 

Metropolitain  de  Saint  Paul." 

I  was  at  the  time  teaching  under  the  shadow 
of  London's  great  cathedral. 


John  Bull,  Jr.  159 


XVIII. 
THE   WAY  TO  LEARN  MODERN  LANGUAGES. 

I  HAVE  always  felt  a  great  deal  of  sympathy, 
and  even  respect,  for  that  good,  honest,  straight- 
forward young  British  boy  who  does  not  easily 
understand  that  in  French  "  a  musical  friend  " 
is  not  necessarily  un  ami  &  musiquc,  nor  "  to  sit 
on  the  committee,"  s'asseoir  sur  le  comitt,  unless 
the  context  indicates  that  it  is  the  painful  opera- 
tion which  is  meant.  Poor  boy  !  For  him  a 
foreign  language  is  only  his  own,  with  another 
vocabulary  ;  and  so,  when  he  does  a  piece  of 
translation,  he  carefully  replaces  on  his  paper 
each  word  of  his  English  text  by  one  of  the 
equivalents  that  he  finds  for  it  in  his  dictionary, 
rarely  failing  to  choose  the  wrong  one,  as  I  have 
already  said.  Now  comes  que.  Shall  he  put 
the  subjunctive  or  the  indicative  ?  He  has  learnt 
his  grammar  :  he  could,  if  occasion  required, 
recite  the  rules  that  apply  to  the  employment  of 
the  terrible  subjunctive  mood.  He  has  even, 
once  or  twice  in  his  life,  written  an  exercise  on 


160  John  Bull,  Jr. 

the  subject,  and  as  it  was  headed  ';  Exercise  on 
the  Subjunctive  Mood,"  lie  went  through  it  with 
calm  confidence,  putting  all  the  verbs  in  the 
subjunctive,  including  those  that  it  would  have 
been  advisable  to  put  in  the  indicative.  This 
done,  he  was  not  supposed  to  commit  any  more 
mistakes  on  this  important  point  of  grammar. 
He  might  as  well  be  expected  to  be  an  experienced 
swimmer  after  once  reading  Captain  Webb's 
"  Art  of  Swimming,"  and  going  through  the 
various  evolutions  indicated  in  the  pamphlet,  a 
sec  on  the  floor  of  his  papa's  parlor. 

I  admit  that  the  French  teacher  of  a  public 
school  ought  to  be  a  good  philologist  to  make 
his  lessons  attractive  to  the  students  of  the  up- 
per forms,  and  insure  their  success  under  exam- 
ination ;  I  admit  that  he  should  know  English 
thoroughly,  to  be  able  to  explain  to  them  the 
delicacies  of  the  French  language,  and  maintain 
good  discipline  in  his  classes  ;  I  admit  that  he 
should  be  able  to  teach  grammar,  philology,  his- 
tory, literature ;  but  I  maintain  that  he  ought 
never  to  lose  sight  of  the  most  important  object 
of  the  study  of  a  living  language, — the  putting  of 
it  into  practice  ;  he  should,  above  all  things,  and 
by  all  means,  aim  at  making  his  pupils  speak 
French.  It  is  not  enough  that  he  should  speak 
to  them  in  French,  even  in  the  upper  forms, 
where  he  would  be  perfectly  understood  :  under- 
standing a  language  and  speaking  it  are  two  very 


John  £ull,  Jr.  161 

different  things.  Neither  will  he  attain  his  end 
by  means  of  dull  manuals  of  imaginary  conver- 
sations with  the  butcher,  the  baker,  and  the  can- 
dlestick-maker ;  these  will,  at  most,  be  useful  in 
helping  a  foreigner  to  ask  for  what  he  wants  at 
a  table  tfh6te.  You  will  not  get  grown-up,  intel- 
ligent, and  well-educated  boys  to  come  out  of 
their  shells,  unless  you  make  it  worth  their  while. 
Now,  Englishmen,  like  Americans,  love  argu- 
ment, very  often  for  argument's  sake,  and  every 
school-boy,  in  England  as  in  America,  is  a  mem- 
ber of  some  society  or  committee,  and  at  its 
meetings  tries  his  wings,  discusses,  harangues, 
and  prepares  himself  for  that  great  parliament- 
ary life,  which  is  the  strength  of  the  nation. 

Then,  I  ask,  why  not  turn  this  love  of  discus- 
sion to  account  ? 

Start  a  French  debating  society  in  every 
school,  and  you  will  teach  your  generation  to 
speak  French.  Such  a  proposition  may  sound 
bold,  but  it  has  been  tried  in  several  public 
schools,  and  has  proved  a  complete  success. 

What  cannot  a  teacher  do  that  has  succeeded 
in  winning  the  esteem  and  affection  of  his  pupils  ? 
First,  make  them  respect  you,  then  gain  their 
hearts,  and  you  will  lead  the  young  by  a  thread. 

Take  twenty  or  thirty  boys,  old  enough  to  ap- 
preciate the  interest  you  feel  in  them,  and  say  to 
them,  "  My  young  friends,  let  us  arrange  to  meet 
once  a  week,  and  see  if  we  cannot  speak  French 


1 62  John  Bull,  Jr. 

together.  We  will  chart  about  any  thing  you  like  : 
politics  even.  Do  not  be  afraid  to  open  your 
lips,  it  is  only  la  premiere  phrase  qui  coute.  I  am 
neither  a  Pecksniff  nor  a  pedant,  a  dotard  nor 
a  wet  blanket  ;  in  your  company,  I  feel  as  young 
as  the  youngest  among  you.  Do  not  imagine 
that  I  shall  bring  you  up  for  the  slightest  error 
of  pronunciation  you  make.  I  remember  the 
time  when  I  murdered  your  language,  and  I 
should  be  sorry  to  cast  the  first  stone  at  you. 
At  first  I  shall  only  correct  your  glaring  mistakes  ; 
by  degrees,  you  will  make  fewer  and  fewer,  al- 
though, alas  !  you  will  very  likely  always  make 
some.  What  does  it  matter  ?  I  guarantee  that 
in  a  few  months  you  will  be  able  to  understand 
all  that  is  said  to  you  in  French,  and  express  in- 
telligibly in  the  same  language  any  idea  that 
may  pass  through  your  brain." 

These  little  French  parliaments  work  admira- 
bly ;  the  earliest  were  started  in  two  or  three 
English  schools  four  or  five  years  ago.  Each 
has  its  president — the  head  French  teacher  of 
the  school,  its  honorary  and  assistant  secre- 
taries, and,  if  you  please,  its  treasurer,  who  sup- 
plies the  members  with  two  or  three  good  French 
papers,  and,  when  the  finances  of  the  society 
permit,  provides  the  means  of  giving  a  soiree 
litteraire.  I  have  seen  the  minute-book  of  one 
of  these  interesting  associations.  Since  its  for- 
mation, this  particular  debating  society  has 


John  Bull,  Jr.  163 

altered  the  whole  map  of  Europe,  greatly  to  the 
advantage  of  the  United  Kingdom.  The  young 
debaters  have  upset  any  number  of  governments, 
at  home  and  abroad,  done  away  with  women's 
rights,  and  declared,  by  a  crushing  majority, 
that  ladies  who  can  make  good  puddihgs  are  far 
more  useful  members  of  society  than  those  who 
can  make  good  speeches.  Young  British  boys 
have  very  strong  sentiments  against  women's 
rights.  In  literature,  the  respective  merits  of 
the  Classicists  and  the  Romanticists  have  been 
discussed,  and  the  "  three  unities "  declared 
absurd  and  tyrannical  by  these  young  champions 
of  freedom. 

The  speakers  are  not  allowed  to  read  their 
speeches,  but  may  use  notes  for  reference,  and 
I  notice  that  speakers,  who  at  first  only  ventured 
short  remarks,  soon  grew  bold  enough  to  hold 
forth  for  ten  minutes  at  a  time.  In  many  in- 
stances, the  president  has  had  to  adjourn  a  de- 
bate to  the  next  meeting,  on  account  of  the  num- 
ber of  orators  wishing  to  take  part  in  it.  These 
minutes,  written  in  very  good  French  indeed,  do 
great  credit  to  the  young  secretary  who  enters 
them.  I  have  myself  been  present  at  meetings 
of  these  societies,  and  I  assure  you  that  if  you 
could  see  these  young  fellows  rise  from  their 
seats,  and,  bowing  respectfully  to  the  president, 
say  to  him:  "Monsieur  le  President,  je  demande 
la  parole]'  you  would  agree  with  me  that,  so  far 


164  John  Bull,  Jr. 

as  good  order,  perfect  courtesy,  and  unlimited 
respect  for  opposite  views  are  concerned,  these 
small  gatherings  would  compare  favorably  with 
the  meetings  of  honorables  and  even  right-hon- 
orables  that  are  held  at  the  Capitol,  the  West- 
minster Palace,  and  the  Palais  Bourbon. 

It  is  clear  to  my  mind  that,  by  such  means, 
English  boys  can  be  made  to  speak  French  in  the 
most  interesting  manner,  and  the  one  best  suited 
to  their  taste.  I  firmly  believe  that  if  the  great 
schools,  public  or  private,  were  to  start  similar 
societies,  that  if  all  the  young  men  knowing  a 
little  French  were  to  form  in  their  districts,  such 
associations  under  the  leadership  of  able  and 
cheerful  Frenchmen,  England,  or  America  for 
that  matter,  would  in  a  few  years,  have  a  gener- 
ation of  French-speaking  men. 

I  have  always  been  at  a  loss  to  understand  how 
boys  who  have  been  studying  a  language  for  nine 
or  ten  years  should  leave  school  perfectly  un- 
able to  converse  intelligibly  in  that  language  for 
five  minutes  together.  It  seems  nothing  short  of 
scandalous. 

Yet  the  reason  is  not  far  to  be  found.  In  En- 
gland, at  any  rate,  modern  languages  are  taught 
like  dead  languages  :  they  are  taught  through 
the  eyes,  whereas  they  should  be  taught  through 
the  ears  and  mouth. 

The  French  debating  society  seems  to  me  the 
best  mode  of  solving  the  difficulty.  I  have  often 


John  Bull,  Jr.  165 

given  this  piece  of  advice  to  John  Bull,  and  I 
myself  founded  a  successful  French  debating  so- 
ciety in  England.  Let  Jonathan  forgive  my  pre- 
sumption if  I  avail  myself  of  his  kind  and  gener- 
ous hospitality  to  give  him  the  same  advice. 


1 66  John  Bull,  Jr. 


XIX. 

ENGLISH  AND  FRENCH  SCHOOLBOYS. — THEIR  CHARACTERIS- 
TICS.— THE  QUALITIES  OF  THE  ENGLISH  SCHOOL-BOY. — 
WHAT  is  REQUIRED  OF  A  MASTER  TO  WIN. 

I  HAVE  often  been  asked  the  question,  "  Are  En- 
glish boys  better  or  worse  than  French  ones  ?  " 

Well,  I  believe  the  genus  boy  to  be  pretty  much 
the  same  all  the  world  over.  Their  characteris- 
tics do  not  show  in  the  same  way,  because  edu- 
cational systems  are  different. 

Both  English  and  French  boys  are  particu- 
larly keen  in  finding  out  the  peculiarities  of  a 
master,  and  taking  his  measure. 

They  are  both  inclined  to  bestow  their  affec- 
tion and  respect  on  the  man  who  is  possessed  of 
moral  and  intellectual  power  ;  it  is  in  their  na- 
ture to  love  and  respect  what  is  powerful,  lofty, 
and  good. 

Boys  are  what  masters  make  them. 

Both  English  and  French  boys  are  lazy  if  you 
give  them  a  chance  ;  both  are  industrious  it  you 
give  them  inducements  to  work.  They  will  not 
come  out  of  their  shells  unless  you  make  it  worth 
their  while. 


Jo  Jin  Bull,  Jr.  167 

Both  are  as  fond  of  holidays  as  any  school- 
master alive. 


French  boys  are  more  united  among  them- 
selves, because  their  life  would  be  intolerable  if 
close  friendship  did  not  spring  up  between  them, 
and  help  them  to  endure  a  secluded  time  of 
hardship  and  privations. 

English  boys  are  prouder,  because  they  are 
freer.  Their  pride  is  born  of  liberty  itself. 

The  former  work  more,  the  latter  play  more. 

But  comparisons  are  odious,  especially  when 
made  between  characters  studied  under  such 
different  circumstances. 


What  I  can  affirm  is  that  a  Frenchman  need 
not  fear  that  English  boys  (such  as  I  have  known 
at  any  rate)  will  take  advantage  of  his  shortcom- 
ings as  regards  his  pronunciation  of  the  English 
language  to  make  his  life  uncomfortable.  I  have 
always  found  English  boys  charitable  and  gen- 
erous. 

A  Frenchman  will  experience  no  difficulty  in 
getting  on  with  English  schoolboys  if  his  char- 
acter wins  their  respect,  and  his  kindness  their 


1 68  John  Bull,  Jr. 

affection  ;  if  he  sympathizes  with  them  in  their 
difficulties  ;  if  he  deals  with  them  firmly,  but 
always  in  .a  spirit  of  fair  play,  truth,  and  justice  ; 
if  he  is 

"  To  their  faults  a  little  blind. 
And  to  their  virtues  very  kind." 


THE   END. 


Appendix. 


Ladies  and  gentlemen,  this  is  a  joke."— (MARK  TWAIN.) 


7.     Appartement    de  garfon,     "bachelor's  quarters,"  not 
"  waiter's  apartment." 

12.  Fors    I'Aonneur,    "except  honor"  (a  phrase   used   by 

Francis  I.  of  France,  when  he  announced  his  defeat 
at  Pavia  to  his  mother). 

13.  Gare  du  Nord,    "Great  Northern   Railway  Terminus," 

in  Paris  (celebrated  for  its  Cloak  Room,  where,  on  his 
arrival  from  England,  John  Bull  deposits  his  baggage 
of  superfluous  virtue). 

16.     Tres  6t'en,  Monsieur,  "  Very  well,  sir."    (I  owe  to  the 
reader  many  apo 
matic  phrase  as 


,  ,  ,       . 

reader  many  apologies  for   translating   such  an  idio- 
as this.) 


19.  Qui  /rise  ses  cheveux  et  la  cinquanfaine,  literally, 
"  Who  curls  her  hair  and  fifty  summers."  (The  word 
/riser  means  both  "  to  curl  "  and  "  to  border  on."  I 
hope  the  reader  will  see  the  joke.) 

21.     Recherchf,  "refined." 
•3H.     Planche^  "a  plank." 


170  Appendix. 

PAGE. 
33.    Allans  me  voila  sauvtf,  "  Now  I  am  saved. " 

41.  Migraine,  "  Sick  headache,"  an  indisposition  to  which 
French  ladies  are  subject,  when  they  are  reading  a 
novel  and  do  not  wish  to  be  disturbed  by  callers. 

48.     Elleseretira "She   retired   to    her  room   and 

prepared  for  bed.     But  who  could  sleep  ?  Sleep  !  " 

48.  Celui  qui  Icrit,  literally  "  He  who  writes." 

49.  Poitrine,    "  chest  "  (part   of  the  body).     Calefons   (un- 

mentionables). 

49.  //  feutra,  il  gauclta,  formed  from  the  nouns  feutre 
("felt,"  material)  and  gauche  (left,"  contrary  of 
"right"). 

51.     "  Look  at  Pierrot  hanging 

Because  he  did  not  restore  the  book  ; 

If  the  book  he  had  restored 

Pierrot  wouldn't  have  been  hanged." 

FAC-SIMILE  OF  JOHN  BULL,  JUNIOR'S,  EXERCISE. 

1.  Europe  is  a  part  of  the  world. 

2.  Asia  is  a  part  of  the  world. 

3.  Africa  is  a  part  of  the  world. 

4.  America  is  a  part  of  the  world. 

5.  My  father  is  in  France. 

6.  My  cousin  is  in  Germany. 

7.  Your  brother  is  in  Dresden. 

8.  Where  is  thy  sister  ?    She  is  in  Paris. 

54.  Egal,  "  Equal." 

55.  Savoir,  "  to  know."    The  future  is  j'e  sauraf. 
57.      Vouloir,  "  to  want."    The  future  is  j'e  voudrai. 

63.    Je  serai.  "I  shall  be." 
Je  serais,  "  I  should  be." 


Appendix,  171 


PAGE. 

73.  The  feminine  words  respectively  mean  "trumpet," 
"medicine,"  "navy,"  "  sculpture,"  whereas  the  mascu- 
line names  respectively  mean  "trumpeter,"  "  doctor," 
"  sailor,"  "  sculptor."  This  is  an  old  examination 
question,  a  time-honored  chestnut  of  the  University  of 
London. 

73.  Rest  ait  cette  redout  able  infant  er  ie...."  There  remained 

the  redoubtable  infantry  of  the  Spanish  army,  whose 
big  close  battalions,  like  so  many  towers,  but  towers 
that  could  repair  their  own  gaps,  stood  unshaken  in  the 
awful  din  of  battle  and  fired  from  all  parts  "  (with  my 
apologies  to  the  shade  of  Bossuet). 

74.  La  fi lie  de  feu "The  daughter  of    my  good    and 

esteemed  deceased  cousin  is  always  welcome. " 

74.     Man  fr ere "My  brother  is  wrong  and  my  sister  is 

right." 

74.  Elle  par  tit "  She  left  the  following  morning. " 

75.  Diable ! .   . . "  Good  heavens  !  the  old  man  is  capricious ! " 

76.  Je  laisse  Renaud "I  leave  Renaud  in  the  gardens  of 

Armida."  (The  worthy  boy  took  Renaud  for  Renard, 
a  fox — that's  near  enough.) 

76.  Chaqne  age  a  ses  plaisirs.     "  Each  age  has  its  pleasures." 

77.  Les  exploits  d  'Hercule "  The  exploits  of  Hercules  are 

mere  play  compared  to." 

77.  Monsieur \  ne  vous  retournez  pas.     "  Sir,  do  not    look 

round." 

y8._  //  raccommodait . ..."  He  mended  old  shoes." 

78.  Ba issant  les yeux,  "  Casting  down  her  eyes." 
84.     Dimanche,  ' '  Sunday. " 

84.     .Ifanche,  near  enough  to  manger  (to  eat)  for  Johnny. 

84.  Cor  Jon  bleu,  skilful  cook.  (Teetotalers  in  England  wear 
I -hie  ribbons,  hence  tin:  boy's  confusion.) 

89.     /.':/.'.  .i.'.iurjtit-es-scit>HCi:<,  ilejiree  of  B.  Sc. 


172  Appendix. 


PAGE. 

92.  Avec  de  belles  dents. . . . "  With  fine  teeth"  never  was  a 

woman  ugly." 

93.  Arrtver,  naftre,  venir,  sort ir,  part ir,  "  to  arrive,"  "  to 

be  born,"  "  to  come,"  "to  go  out,"  "  to  set  out." 

120.  Savate,  boxing  and  kicking ;  canne,  cane  (fencing  ex- 
pression). 

134.  Avez-vous  dit  mal?  "Are  you  hurt  ?"  The  English- 
man understands  Avez-vous  deux  malles ?  "Have 
you  two  trunks  ?  " 

134.     Garfon,  j'aifaim,  "Waiter,  I'm  hungry." 

137.     Ses  ami's,  "his  friends."    Seize  amis,  "sixteen  friends." 

145.  Quelle  heure  est-il?  "What  o'clock  is  it?"  Comment 
vous  portez-vous  ?  "  How  do  you  do  ?  " 

151.  Qtfil  riest  pas  ntcessaire. ..."  That  it  is  not  necessary 

to  know  any  thing  of  a  subject  to  speak  on  it." 

152.  Lycee,  "  French  public  school." 

158.  Un  ami  a  musiqtte  would  mean  a  friend  who  could  give 
off  a  tune  by  being  pressed  upon. 

162.  Monsieur  le  President,  j'e  demande  la  parole,  "  Mr. 
President,  I  ask  for  the  floor." 


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